Diary of a Hidden Girl
by Ash-Caro-Lynn
Summary: She grew up kept away, made an appearance under a false identity during her first year at Hogwarts, and now she and her brother are back. After facing Voldemort in their first year, Harry and Holly Potter hope their second year might be calmer... but things might not go as planned. Set to Chamber of Secrets. Second in a series. Rewritten and updated.
1. Of Reunions and Realisations

**Summary : She grew up kept away, made an appearance under a false identity during her first year at Hogwarts, and now she and her brother are back. After facing Voldemort in their first year, Harry and Holly Potter hope their second year might be calmer... but things might not go as planned. Set to Chamber of Secrets. Second in a series.**

 **Author's Note : Heya! Welcome back to my readers - whether you were with before or after this was rewritten! I've worked my backside off, so I hope it paid off. I hope you enjoy.**

 **This was meant to be out earlier... but I lost my Internet in a tragic incident and couldn't get it out as quickly as I'd have liked! But I'm back now, so I hope you like this!**

 **Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter, make any money off of this, or enjoy writing disclaimers... so without further ado, chapter one!**

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter I : Of Reunions and Realizations_

 **Date : 31 July 1992**

It was early in the morning on a day without clouds when I awoke to a noise coming from the first floor of the Burrow - the family home of the Weasleys, whom I was spending part of my summer with. Confused at what could possibly happening at six in the morning, I quickly threw on a shirt and pants and hurried down the stairs from the third level, hopping as I slipped my socks on while descending the two flights.

I came to a skidding halt at the bottom of them and turned in a half-circle to face the source of the noise : Mrs Weasley yelling at her sons - Fred and George Weasley, the prankster twins; and Ron Weasley, their younger brother and one of my good friends - while my own brother stood by, nervously running a hand through his messy jet black hair. I let out a sort of excited shriek, enveloping him in a sort of flying tackle hug.

"Harry!" I exclaimed, pulling back to get a good look at him. "When did you get here?" I turned to the twins and Ron. "When did he get here?"

"Late last night," replied Mrs Weasley, pausing in her berating of her sons. "These three flew that enchanted car of Arthur's to Surrey and back last night."

"Really? How'd it go?" I asked enthusiastically. Mrs Weasley turned and smacked me upside the back of the head. "Only joking, really - that was very irresponsible of you three, you should be ashamed of yourselves-"

"They were starving him!" argued George. "They had bars on his window!"

"Bars on his window?" I repeated, turning back to Harry. "So that's why you haven't been replying to our letters!"

"Sort of," replied Harry, averting his emerald green eyes that were identical to my own.

"You can explain later," I said, grabbing a piece of toast off the table. "Ooh, and happy birthday, by the way!"

"You too," he replied, sitting down. The Weasleys all turned to look at me.

"Harry!" I exclaimed, cuffing him upside the back of the head in a fashion similar to how Mrs Weasley had done to me just moments ago.

See, the Weasleys didn't actually know that Harry and I were siblings. In fact, most people didn't even know that I had survived the attack that had killed our parents when we were just babies.

A dark wizard had attempted to murder Harry that fateful Halloween night, but somehow my brother had managed to reflect the Killing Curse back at him, leaving him with nothing but a lightning scar as proof.

In the present, Fred and George turned to look at me with murderous expressions.

"You didn't tell us it was your birthday!" exclaimed Fred.

"Who would've known? Both of our favorite first years, share a birthday!" added George dramatically.

"First of all, we're second years, and second of all, isn't Ron one of your favorites?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, we do love our Ickle Ronniekins," said Fred, draping an arm around his younger brother.

"Shut up," mumbled Ron, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Oh, we'll simply have to have a celebration!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley. "My apologies, dears, I didn't get you anything-"

"Honestly, Mrs Weasley, just being here is a good enough gift," replied Harry wholeheartedly.

"Couldn't have put it better myself, Harry dear," I added. "Now, come upstairs 'cause _we need to talk_."

I dragged him up the stairs, shooting a glance back at the twins, who snickered.

I rounded on him the minute we reached the landing. "They don't know who I am!"

"I forgot, I'm sorry!" said Harry, his hands raised in surrender. "I won't tell them you're my sister!"

"Then we're goo-" I stared at the door which had just slammed closed. "Shit."

"What? What was that?" asked Harry, looking at it confusedly.

"That," I replied, my eyes widened, "was Ginny."

"She's their sister, isn't she?" I nodded.

"Now look what you've done!" I said, smacking him upside the back of the head again.

"Well," mumbled Harry, rubbing the back of his head, "what's the harm in them knowing? It's not like they're working for Voldemort or anything."

"You're right." I sighed. "And to think, they call me the brilliant one!"

"They do?" asked Harry, smirking. I scowled at him.

"Yes, they do," I replied, rolling my eyes. "So, let's go back to breakfast, and hope Ginny is kept away by your being there!"

"Wait, what?" asked Harry, following me back down the stairs - well, walking as I slid down the banister.

"She's been talking about you all summer!" I replied.

"Who, Ginny?" asked Ron, picking up on what I was saying.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Quite annoying, really," added Fred.

Harry was by now redder than any of the Weasleys' hair. "I get it," he mumbled, taking a seat at the breakfast table, where all of the school aged Weasley boys sat - including Percy, who sat like he had a stick up his butt, as usual. The door opened, and Mr Weasley walked through.

"Morning, Weasleys!" he said, taking a seat.

"Morning, Dad," chimed his sons. He kissed Mrs Weasley on the cheek, sitting down.

"Morning, Willow," he said to me, and turned to Harry, looking at him strangely. "And who are you?"

I go by there name of Willow Leavitt at school, so as to divert confusion, you see.

"Oh, sorry, sir, I'm Harry," he replied. "Harry Potter."

"Ron's told us all about you, of course," said Mr Weasley. I cast a glance out the window, where an owl was flying towards the window. I hurriedly got up, opening it, and it flew through.

"Thank goodness," I mumbled, closing it. "He usually flies into that one - first time I've been quick enough."

"I wouldn't worry about it," commented Percy. "Errol's always done that, and he's none the worse for wear."

The owl ruffled its feathers, waving the letters in its beak at me. "Don't you get sassy with me, Errol, I just tried to save your life," I muttered, rolling my eyes and looking through the envelopes. "Ooh, look! Hogwarts letters!" I threw them to the boys. "Ooh, and look, Harry, they've sent us ours as well." I made a point of showing him the name on mine as I handed him his.

"Can't even get your name right," he muttered, rolling his eyes. I scowled, sitting next to him.

"Let's see," I muttered, opening it. I sucked in a breath. "Expensive books. Who's Gilderoy Lockhart?" The Weasleys all turned to look at me.

"Five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award," supplied Fred.

"Honorary member of the Dark Arts Defense League," added George.

"Order of Merlin, Third Class," continued Fred.

"Subject of Mum's fancying," concluded George, neatly ducking her swat.

"Well, there's only one place to get all of these books," declared Mrs Weasley dramatically. "Diagon Alley."

* * *

"Diagonally?" I repeated.

"No, Diagon Alley, dear," she replied.

"But - you said diagonally-"

"No, no, Diagon Alley. It's a street, you see."

"Oh."

* * *

"I've never travelled by Floo Powder before," I said, facing the fireplace. "Harry hasn't, either."

"Well, then, Ron'll go first, show you how it's done," said Mrs Weasley. He stepped into the fire, and took a pinch of what looked to be ashes from the dish she offered him. "Now, loud and clear."

"Diagon Alley!" he yelled, and dropped the powder. I squealed as green flames leapt up, enveloping him. When they disappeared, he, too, was gone.

"Go ahead, then, Harry, you next," I said, nudging him.

"I think I'll let you," he replied.

"Go on," I replied.

"Make me," he challenged.

"Afraid?" I asked, smirking. This was playing out just like it had almost exactly a year ago, in Ollivander's Wand Shop, when we had gone back and forth over ringing a bell.

"All right, you two, that's enough," said Mrs Weasley. "Go ahead then, Harry."

I smirked, and he scowled back, stepping into the fireplace.

"Honestly, you two fight worse than us, and we're twins," muttered Fred, ruffling my hair. I scowled at him, righting it.

"Don't touch my hair," I growled out as Harry dropped the powder, shouting out something incoherent.

"Did he just say what I think he just said?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"I heard 'diagonally,'" I replied, "though that might just have been me."

"No," replied Mr Weasley. "I heard it too."

* * *

"Where's Harry?" I asked Ron as I stumbled through the fireplace.

"Haven't seen him," he replied, confirming my fears.

"He came through before me!" I exclaimed, looking around. "He must be here somewhere!"

"He must have gone to a different grate," replied Ron as he, too, looked around. "Bloody hell - the two of you have a knack for getting into situations like this, don't you?"

"We don't go looking for trouble, honest," I replied. "It just... has a way of finding us."

Percy was the next to come through. "Where's Harry?" he asked immediately.

"Went to a different grate," replied Ron.

Fred was next. "Where's Harry?"

"Went to a different grate," I replied. This process repeated with the rest of the Weasleys, concluding with Mrs Weasley, who came through last.

"Oh dear," she mumbled, shaking her head. "Well, hopefully he hasn't gone too far... a couple of us can look for him while we get our shopping done..."

"I volunteer as tribute," I said immediately. Mrs Weasley raised an eyebrow.

"What on earth is a tribute?" she asked. I shrugged. "Alright, never you mind, anyone to go with her?"

"I'll accompany her," volunteered Percy. I barely concealed my shock - I had never had so much as a civil conversation with him.

In fact, the only conversation I had ever had with him was back in first year, when he had interrogated me as to where I had been. Unless you count the numerous times I had gotten back late to the common room, and he had been standing there, tapping a pocket watch...

I guess he did enjoy making sure I was back on time... which I always managed to do.

"Oh, lovely, Percy," said Mrs Weasley. "Now, we'll be going to Second-Hand Robes for Ginny's robes, then we'll stop by Potage's Cauldron Shop-"

"We'll find you," assured Percy. "After all, it is hard to miss a wave of redheads."

I snickered at the joke as I followed him out into the busy streets of Diagon Alley.

* * *

"Our results thus far have been fruitless," said Percy. "Do you reckon we should return to the others?"

I raised an eyebrow as I tried to process what he had just said. Finally, I just shook my head, looking out into the crowd.

"Ooh, look, there's Hagrid!" I exclaimed, pointing out the half giant who was quite visible, seeing as he was taller than everyone else on the bustling street. "Maybe he's seen him!"

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in at least checking," replied Percy.

" _Why must you be so stuffy_?" I asked exasperatedly as I followed him through the street. Even though his back was turned to me, I could tell that he rolled his eyes.

"He has seen him," he told me over his shoulder.

"How do you know?" I asked, trying and failing to look past him.

"He's got him," he replied.

I breathed a sigh of relief as we reached Harry. "Finally!" I exclaimed. "Oh, thank goodness."

"'E was down Knockturn Alley," explained Hagrid.

"Thank you very much for retrieving him, Hagrid," said Percy, shaking his plate-sized hand.

We escorted Harry back through Diagon Alley. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" I asked him.

"No," he replied.

"Then what the hell were you thinking?!" I exclaimed, smacking him upside the head.

* * *

"Oh, thank goodness!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley as myself, Percy and Harry returned, the latter rubbing the back of his head where I had smacked him. "You're alright!"

"Yeah," he replied. "What... is happening?"

A line was out the door for the busy bookshop, Flourish and Blotts. It was popular, but never quite this crowded.

"Gilderoy Lockhart's doing a book signing," answered Fred, who was looking over the heads of the crowd.

"Wow. I didn't realize that so many witches were like your mother," I commented, and she smacked me upside the back of the head... again... "That gets really annoying sometimes... ooh, look, it's Hermione!"

Said bookworm was rushing towards us at high speeds, narrowly dodging the other people walking about. My best friend immediately enveloped me in a sort of flying tackle hug not unlike the one I had given Harry earlier.

"Willow!" she exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Technically, it's only been about five weeks," I replied. Upon her raised eyebrow, I quickly added, "But it feels like forever!"

"Hiya, Harry!" she said, hugging him as well. "Oh, and happy birthday, by the way!"

"Thanks, Hermione," he replied. She turned her gaze to the store.

"What's happening?" she asked curiously.

"Gilderoy Lockhart's doing a book signing, Granger," replied George.

"Oh, is he?" asked Hermione, her eyes lighting up. My own widened in horror.

"No," I mumbled. "Not you... Hermione Granger, of all the people to fall victim to the charms... I thought you were above this!"

"Wait, what?" asked Harry confusedly. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

"Yes," I replied, "though you're probably better off not knowing..."

"Oh, shut up, Willow," mumbled Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Never!" I replied. "Oh, you may not see the problem now... but when I tease you forever more, you will..." I shot her a grin. "And-"

"Harry Potter!" called out a voice. Confused, I looked around to find its source, before my eyes landed on a man in lilac robes, with curled blonde hair and a charming grin.

"Ew."

I was immediately filled with a sense of loathing for the man as he leapt up, seizing Harry and dragging him up to the table he had been sitting at, grinning broadly at the reporters covering the story all the way.

He held Harry at his side, despite my brother's protests, and grinned at the cameras. "Smile, Harry," I heard him whisper, "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

"When Mr Potter here came in here for a copy of my autobiography, Magical Me," announced Lockhart loudly, "he had no idea that he'd be getting my entire collected works," here he gestured a person carrying a stack of said books to hand them to Harry, "Free of charge."

I rolled my eyes.

"And indeed, he didn't think that he'd be getting to meet the real Magical Me," continued the arrogant wizard, "but I can assure you all, he'll be seeing much more of this."

"For indeed, Mr Potter and all of his fellow students will be getting the real Magical Me! I am pleased to announce that I will be taking over the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this September!"

My eyes widened in horror as I buried my face in my hands. "Am I dreaming, 'Mione?" I asked, horrified.

"I know, it's lovely, isn't it?" she replied. "Oh, it'll be so good to have a teacher with real experience!"

"It'll be hell," I replied under my breath.

 **A/N : Yes, my dear Holly, it will be... oh, you have seen nothing yet...**


	2. Of Arrivals and Anglias

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter II : Of Arrivals and Anglias_

 **Date : 31 July 1992**

The rest of the day in Diagon Alley had thankfully passed without incident - that is, nobody was lost within the busy bustling streets, and Harry had managed to say his destination properly for the return trip (despite my trading him and implying he would have a hard time doing so).

Though we had bumped into Draco Malfoy, which had ended most unpleasantly. See, Draco Malfoy, to put it simply, was a big, babyish, childish jerk.

He also just so happened to be enemies with my brother, so you can probably imagine his reaction to the publicity Harry received within Flourish and Blotts.

It also just so happened that Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy - that is, Draco's father - didn't get along well, either. They had gotten into a verbal dispute that could quite possibly have ended a lot worse than it had, but Mrs Weasley had intervened just as Mr Weasley was on the verge of jumping Malfoy.

The only real incident that day would come when I entered the room I had been sharing with Ginny to put my things away in my trunk, and she was already sitting on her bed. She closed the door, and turned to look at me expectantly.

"Is it true, then?" she asked curiously. "Are you really Harry's sister, Willow - or is that even your real name?"

"No," I replied. Both her eyebrows went up. "It's not my real name." I sighed. "My real name is Holly Louise Potter."

"Why didn't you tell us?" she pressed. "It's not like we'd tell anyone, you know."

"It's... a very long story," I replied.

"I'm all ears."

* * *

"Wow."

I had just finished accounting the full details of why exactly I went by the name of 'Willow Leavitt' to Ginny, and why everybody had thought that Holly Potter had died nearly eleven years ago.

"I had no idea."

I weakly laughed. "You couldn't have," I replied. "There's no way you could have known."

"But still... it's, like, wow," she replied. "You've been through so much..."

I smiled at her. "I've come out none the worse for wear from it, though, have I? It's not near as bad as it sounds... that is, if you like reading. Did I ever tell you I know how to knit?"

* * *

 **Date : 1 August 1992**

"Is it really that painful?" asked Harry, sitting on the bed beside me, where I was laying on my stomach, my head buried in one of Lockhart's books.

"No, I just wanted to get a closer look at the mole below his ear," I bit back sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "When's Ginny going to tell them, do you think?"

"No clue," he replied. "You know her better than I do."

"It would be nice if she'd wait 'til I'm gone, so I don't have to deal with the eruption," I commented. He raised an eyebrow.

"You're leaving?" I nodded.

"Later today, I'm going back to Hogwarts," I replied. "I didn't tell you?"

"Nope," he replied. "Well, that sucks."

"Doesn't it?" I replied, finally taking my face out of my book and flipping myself, sitting up to face him properly.

"Oh, and before I forget," he said, taking something out of his bag, "I got you these."

Curious, I took the case from him. "You didn't have to," I mumbled as I opened it, revealing a pair of wire framed glasses. A smile slowly crept over my face as I looked up from them to him before putting them down on the bed beside me and hugging him. "Thank you!"

"Technically, they're from Aunt Petunia," he said, awkwardly running a hand through his hair. "I - er - told her I needed a new pair..."

"That's okay," I replied with a grin, putting them on. " _I can see_!"

"How'd you find out you had a sight problem, anyway?" asked Harry curiously.

" _That_ is a story for another time, Harry," I replied. "And speaking of stories... you said that there was a long one involving the reason I never got a reply?"

"Uh, yeah," replied Harry. "See, I didn't actually get any of your letters."

"Not one of them?" I repeated. "I must have sent twenty!"

"See, I found out later that there was an... er... well, a _house elf_ intercepting my mail," started Harry.

"A house elf?" I repeated. "House elves don't do stuff like that!"

"See, this elf showed up in my bedroom the other day, and tried to convince me not to return to Hogwarts," he explained. "I told him that I'd be going, and he... er... levitated a pudding and let it drop."

"Oh dear."

"And that's not the worst part of it," said Harry. "It was over the wife of Uncle Vernon's very important business guest."

"So, let me get this straight," I said. "I'm clutching at straws here, but a _house elf_ was intercepting your mail, and then he shows up out of nowhere, tells you not to return to Hogwarts, and levitates a pudding with a Hover Charm?"

"I never said Hover Charm," said Harry confusedly.

"I know," I replied. "I did. Mr Weasley works at the Ministry, you know, and he told us about the letter you got."

"Oh."

"Sheesh, Harry, you sure do have a knack for getting into situations like these, don't you?"

"I guess I do."

* * *

 **Date : 1 September 1992**

The rest of the summer holiday passed in a blur - well, as blurred as a month at Hogwarts without any of the other students could. Before I knew it, I was going back to King's Cross Station to board the train once more.

As I sat in the empty compartment I had managed to find, a book open on my lap, I heard the warning whistle go off. Confused, I cast a glance out the window, looking to see where Hermione, Ron and Harry were. The compartment door slid open, revealing Hermione. I immediately put the book down on the seat beside me and hugged her.

"Hermione!" I exclaimed. "How's the rest of your summer been?"

"It felt long, but it really was a blast," she replied. "Say, have you seen Harry and Ron?"

"That I haven't," I replied. "I was hoping you had - the train leaves in just under a minute, you know."

I heard a commotion out on the platform, and looked to see the Weasleys rushing onto the platform, barely managing to keep their trolleys in control with their speed.

"I don't see Harry," I mumbled. "And he spent the last month or so at the Burrow with them, from what I heard in his letters..."

"Is Ron there?" asked Hermione. I scanned the crowd.

"No," I replied. "He's not."

"You don't think something happened to them?" asked Hermione.

"Well, I wouldn't make assumptions just yet," I replied. "Maybe they're just lagging behind?"

"Lagging behind?" repeated Hermione. "Willow, the train leaves in less than a minute! If they're not on the platform by now, they're going to miss the train!"

My eyes widened.

"Oh dear."

* * *

"'Oh dear' was right," commented Hermione. We were already five minutes into the train ride, and had seen no sign whatsoever of Ron and my brother. "I don't believe it... they've somehow _missed_ the train!"

"I'm going to check up with Fred and George," I declared, getting up. "They'll have seen him, I'm sure."

I quickly moved through the corridor, peeking into compartments until I found Fred and George, along with some of the other members of the Quidditch team and their friend, Lee Jordan, who was the Quidditch match commentator.

"Hello, Willow!" said George cheerfully with an overly exaggerated wink. I rolled my eyes.

"Fred, George," I replied curtly. "Have either of you seen your brother?"

"Which brother is that?" asked Fred.

"Your younger one," I replied.

"Not since we got onto the platform," answered George. "Why?"

I groaned. "This is bad," I mumbled under my breath. "Hermione and I haven't seen Harry nor Ron on this train."

* * *

After a train ride that felt much longer than it had been due to making ourselves sick with worry, the train finally rolled into the station. I grabbed my trunk and my owl and followed Hermione off the trains.

"Where do we go now?" I asked curiously, looking around. Last year, we had taken the boats across the Great Lake - nicknamed 'The Black Lake' because it was near impossible to see any color in its shimmering depths - but that was only for the first years.

"Confused, little secondies?" I heard one of the twins say as they came up behind us.

"For more reasons than one," I replied, sighing as I looked out over the water.

"Don't worry, follow us," declared the other, and Hermione and I exchanged a look as they led us to the carriages, each of us wondering the same thing.

 _Where were they?_

* * *

Word had quickly made its way around the Great Hall at the Welcoming Feast, and I wouldn't have believe a word of it had I not followed the rumors straight back to the horse's mouth.

Harry and Ron had missed the train, and taken his father's flying car to the school, which they ended up crashing into the Whomping Willow tree.

"I can't believe it!" I exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the common room. "I thought they had more sense! Maybe not Ron, but at least Harry!"

Hermione was doing almost the exact same thing. "Why on earth would he let Ron talk him into this?" she muttered under her breath, walking back and forth. "Ugh! Boys! They're so stupid!"

The portrait hole swung open, revealing two very sheepish looking boys.

"Harry!" I exclaimed, hugging him. "Oh, thank goodness you're alright!" I smacked him upside the head. "What the _bloody hell_ were you thinking?!"

 **A/N : Good ol' sibling love.**


	3. Of Lessons and Lockhart

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter III : Of Lessons and Lockhart_

 **Date : 2 September 1992**

After my begrudgingly forgiving them, Harry, Ron, and I had gone back to being friends. So far, my being Harry's sister hadn't come up yet - for which I was thankful, seeing as I had enough on my plate for the day after we got back.

"No - no - no - no," I mumbled, bashing my head against the back of the couch. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on, it can't be _that_ bad, can it?" she asked, taking the timetable from me. "Look - we have Professor Lockhart!"

" _Exactly_ ," I replied. "Double Potions. Defense Against the Dark Arts. All on the first morning that we're back!" I moaned. "All of this on top of the fact that those stupid friends of ours just _had_ to fly a _car_ into a tree... but not just any tree, oh no, that wasn't quite _dramatic_ enough. They hit the one tree that hits back! Now I have to face my two least favorite professors on top of trying not to blow up at them again!"

"Well, let's just get it over then, shall we?" suggested Hermione. I sighed, grabbing my book bag and following her out of the common room.

* * *

"That was the greatest Potions class I've ever had," I commented as we walked back from the dungeons. Ron stared at me in bewilderment.

"That was awful!" he exclaimed.

"Maybe it just looks good compared to what we have next," commented Harry. I nodded in agreement.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, one being bad and ten being horrid, how do you think this'll turn out?" I asked with a sigh.

"Nine and three quarters," replied Ron.

"Speaking of nine and three quarters, why did the two of you miss the train?" I asked.

"The barrier was closed - we couldn't get onto the platform," answered Harry. My eyes widened.

" _Closed_?" I repeated. "How does a barrier get closed?"

"That's exactly what we were wondering," answered Harry. "Thought you might have some answers."

"I might have some answers?" I repeated. "Why would I have the answers?"

"I don't know, you seem to know a lot," replied Ron.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I mumbled, rolling my eyes as we came upon the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor. "There's not much magic that could close a magical barrier, and that barrier can't be legally closed by a witch or wizard. There would have been some sort of notice in the paper if it was something like that..." I frowned, trying to think. "There is one specific person... or rather, _creature_ , that I can think of."

"What's that?" asked Harry. I looked at him expectantly.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about, Harry," I replied. "How about that darned elf?"

"Dobby?" asked Harry.

"I don't know, you never told me his name," I replied with a shrug. "He's probably your best bet. We'll talk about it later. Come on, let's go in."

The classroom was possibly the most horrific thing I had ever seen. Portraits of Lockhart lined the walls, and the bookshelves held glossy copies of his works. I shuddered, taking a seat next to Harry.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," he announced. "Order of Merlin, Third Class; Honorary Member of the Dark Arts Defense League; and five time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award." He shot us said grin. "Though I don't talk about that much. It's not like I defeated the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her!"

"I don't know, seeing him happy sure makes me want to curl up in a corner and die," I muttered to Harry, who stifled a laugh.

"Now, before we start with the lessons, I'd like to get started with a small... pop quiz!" said Lockhart, taking a stack of sheets off his desk. "To see how much you gained from the assigned reading!"

"If I'd have gained anything from those books, it would be stupidity," I mumbled, rolling my eyes as he handed out the sheets, which I soon realized were double-sided as I pulled my quill and ink from my bag. I noted Harry bite his lip out of the corner of my eye as I received my test.

"You have half an hour... starting... now."

I read over the list, my eyes widening. "This is about himself," I muttered, dipping my quill in my inkwell.

 _1\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_

"Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color is that of the rim of his mirror, seeing as it outlines what he loves most... literally," I mumbled, writing it down.

 _2\. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

"Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition is to rid the world of all other wizards so that he'll never have to look at anything he deems ugly," I replied, and Harry snorted.

"Stop saying them out loud," he mumbled. "I'm going to crack a rib from staying silent."

"Oh, come on, I'm not that funny," I replied with an eye roll.

* * *

After a very long twenty minutes, I had finally reached the last question.

 _54\. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

"Hm..." I mumbled. "Final question."

"What're you replying?" asked Harry.

" _Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday is on the date also known as The Day The World Was Gifted to Lockhart and The Day All Hope For Humanity Was Lost to everyone else. His ideal gift would be eternal allegiance and worship_ ," I replied, writing it down as I said it.

Harry burst out in laughter, making Lockhart look up.

"Yes, Mr Potter? What is it that is so funny?" he asked curiously, walking over to the table we were sharing and looking quite bewildered. Harry did nothing but point to me, and Lockhart turned. "Miss... Leavitt?"

"It's her test, professor," spoke up Ron, seeing as Harry was incapable of doing so. Alarmed, Lockhart picked mine up, his eyes scanning my answers.

"I - I do not use bleach to maintain my pearly white smile!" he spluttered. "Detention tonight, Miss Leavitt."

"Worth every minute of it," I muttered to Harry, even though I was dreading it.

An hour spent with him in class? Bad enough.

But an hour spent with him outside of class?

Oh, Merlin.

* * *

"What exactly _did_ your test say?" asked Ron curiously as we walked to lunch.

"You should see some of her answers," replied Harry, opening my book bag and taking it out, showing it to Ron. "Especially question twenty-eight."

" _28\. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_ " read Ron aloud. He snickered. " _Being sorted into Ravenclaw even though his head is filled like the envelope of a hot air balloon_."

"Willow, that's real mature of you," commented Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "I'm not the one that outlined all of our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes in little hearts."

"Say _what_?!" cried Harry and Ron in unison. Hermione was saved the interruption, however, by a small boy who looked to be in first year who held a camera.

"Hiya, Harry!" he exclaimed. "I'm Colin - Colin Creevey - I'm in Gryffindor, too."

"Uh - nice to meet you, Colin," he said.

"You see, I've heard all about you, and I was wondering - if maybe - I could take take a picture of you?"

"Er - sure," replied Harry awkwardly. I hid a smile behind my hand at his embarrassment as Colin lit up.

"Oh, great!" he exclaimed. "And do you think you could sign it after? So I can prove I met you?"

It was at this time that the last person any of us wanted to overhear that just so happened to be walking by.

"Giving out signed photos, eh, Potter?" he drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"Back off, Malfoy," I snarled with a glare.

"Oh, no, I think I'd like a copy though, oh _Saint_ Potter, if you could ever find the time!"

"Oh, that is _it_ , Malfoy. Locomotor Wibbly!" I exclaimed, moving my wand in a complicated movement. An orange spark burst out, and he fell to the floor, his legs wobbling uncontrollably.

"Woah. What's that?" asked Harry as I observed Malfoy curiously.

"Jelly-Legs Jinx," I replied. "Never used it before."

"Where'd you learn it?" asked Ron.

"Where do you think?" I countered.

Him and Harry shared a glance before chiming, "From a book."

* * *

"Willow Leavitt, reporting for detention, sir," I announced, entering Lockhart's office without even bothering to knock. "You may hold your applause."

"Ah, Miss Leavitt!" exclaimed Lockhart, looking up. "Do pull up a chair... you will be helping me answer some of my fan mail."

My eyes widened and I stared at him, completely aghast. He appeared not to notice, and I pulled up a chair to his desk as far from him as I could get, dramatically threw myself down into it. "Nice quill," I commented sarcastically.

"Yes, it's lovely, isn't it?" replied Lockhart, holding up the gigantic peacock feather quill and clearly not noting my tone, sliding a pile of envelopes, a quill and an inkwell over to me. "You can get to addressing those envelopes."

I picked up the quill, dipping it in the ink and casting a glance at the list, starting to write.

"Please refrain from writing 'Gilderoy Lockhart, the World's Biggest Prima Donna' as the return address again," said Lockhart, reading over one of the envelopes I had addressed. I rolled my eyes, continuing to write.

* * *

It felt like hours before I was dismissed. At first, I thought I was exaggerating, but upon glancing up to the clock, I realized that it was nearly midnight.

Lockhart seemed to realize it as well. "Why, would you look at the hour!" he cried. "You've been here nearly four hours!"

"Does that mean I'm done?" I asked, flexing my aching hand. He nodded, and I cheered, grabbing my bag and racing out.

* * *

"You're finally back," called out Harry as I entered the common room. I raised an eyebrow.

"What're you doing up?" I asked confusedly. "It's nearly midnight."

"Waiting for you," he replied as I threw myself down on the couch. "I was beginning to wonder."

"Oh, it was simply awful!" I cried dramatically. "He made me help him answer fan mail."

"For four hours?" questioned Harry. I nodded with a sigh.

"We didn't even make a dent," I replied. "I mean, I know he's awful and all, but I marvel in the fact that he can do all that. My hand is so cramped I feel like I won't be able to write for hours!" I looked at him curiously. "Enough about me. What did you want to talk about?"

"How'd you know?" he asked. I gave him a blank look.

"I can read you like a book, Harry," I replied. "Is this to do with Dobby?"

"Yes," he replied with a sigh. "I just don't get it... he intercepts my letters, dumps pudding on Mrs Mason-"

"-Mrs Mason?"

"Uncle Vernon's business guest's wife."

"Oh."

"And then he seals up the barrier! I mean, he's obviously crazy, but it makes me wonder what exactly the danger is."

"The danger?" I repeated. "What danger?"

"He said... that I was in grave danger... for there was something happening... but that it wasn't Voldemort..." Harry explained. "But who else could it be?"

"Well, unless Lockhart's hair is actually a wig and he's hiding Voldemort under it, I have no clue," I replied. "Let's sleep on it."

 **A/N : Wonder if they'll come up with any ideas?**


	4. Of Vomit and Voices

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter IV : Of Vomit and Voices_

 **Date : 3 September 1992**

"So, Harry, what've we got today?" I asked him as I sat down next to him at breakfast. He looked at me strangely.

"Aren't you the one who always memorizes the timetables?" he asked curiously, taking his out.

"Well, of course I am, I'm just quizzing you," I replied. "Today, we have..." My vision glazed over as I pictured the timetable. " _Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, Herbology with Professor Sprout, Charms with Professor Flitwick, Lunch Hour, Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lockhart, Potions with Professor Snape_. Cue the horrified screams, as all those not infatuated with Lockhart run around like chickens without heads."

Harry looked impressed. "That's right," he replied, replacing his schedule in his bag. "You know, you're probably better off not insulting him if you don't want to spend another night answering his fan mail."

"I guess," I replied with a sigh, taking a piece of toast off Ron's place, who made a protest through his full mouth that sounded so much like, "Mmf," that I chose not to acknowledge him. "So, last class was a pop quiz ending in chaos - for myself, at least - wonder what it's going to be this time?"

"Bet you a Galleon it'll end in chaos," wagered Harry.

"Bet you two he'll demonstrate his incompetence," I countered.

"Harry, Willow, if you're going to gamble on anything, don't make it Professor Lockhart," said Hermione. "He's a perfectly good teacher, he was just offended by Willow's answers to the test."

"I answered as honestly as I could!" I replied, my hands up in a show of surrender.

"I'm sure this next lesson will be enlightening," commented Hermione. "Well, I'm going to go get my books, so I'll see you all in class."

"I'm sure it'll be _delightful_ ," I replied sarcastically as she made her way out of the Great Hall. The moment the doors closed behind her, I turned back to Harry. "Ten Galleons he does something stupid that ultimately ends in chaos and proves how stupid he is, Harry, take it or leave it."

"I'll probably regret this," replied Harry, but placed his hand in mine and shook it. I pulled a pouch from my book bag, and gently pulled it open.

"Ten Galleons, in the bag," I said, holding it out to Harry. He put them in, and I placed my own in before handing it to Ron. "Hand this back to me when I win."

* * *

"In this class, you will be facing some of your worst fears..." Lockhart was explaining as the class was distracted - whether by his looks or not, none were really paying attention. "Now, I must ask you not to shout... it might... _provoke them_."

He pulled a sheet off a cage on the desk, and I leaned forward eagerly to see what the creatures were and was sorely disappointed.

"Cornish Pixies?" I asked exasperatedly.

" _Freshly caught_ Cornish Pixies," corrected Lockhart. "Devillish little blighters - let's see what you make of them!"

He swung the door to the cage open, and the pixies flew out, immediately landing on books and tearing out the pages, pulling hair, and generally causing chaos.

I squealed as two of them started to try to rip hairs from my head, my temper flaring as I pulled out my wand. Most of the class, aside from Hermione, Ron, Neville, Harry, and I, seemed to have left the room. I glared at Lockhart, who was pulling the door shut.

"I'll just leave you five to get those back," he said before shutting it. I let all my anger out as I pulled out my wand.

"IMMOBULUS!" I shouted, and immediately, all of the pixies in the room went still. "Now, _that_ felt good," I mumbled, picking one of the small blue creatures out of my hair. Ron, Harry and Neville stared at me.

"How are you so good at Charms?" asked Neville, his tone totally awestruck. I shrugged.

"Natural talent," I replied, carefully starting to replace the pixies in the cage. "My mother was good at Charms, too."

"She was?" asked Harry curiously. I nodded wholeheartedly.

"Top of the year in it," I replied. "She was good at Potions, too. Real good at it. Second best only to our own current Potions master. Now, since all of those are back in their cage, I believe I've won."

Ron shot a glance at Harry, who sighed and nodded. He handed me the coin purse.

"Willow!" exclaimed Hermione. "Didn't I tell you not to gamble?"

"Yes," I replied. "I decided to... take my chances." I grinned. "Double meaning to that, by the way."

* * *

 **Date : 5 September 1992**

Three days had passed since I had advised Harry to 'sleep on it,' for ideas, that is, and the only good idea we had come up with was avoiding Colin Creevey and Gilderoy Lockhart to the best of our abilities.

It was early on Saturday morning when the peace was interrupted by my being shaken awake.

"Alicia!" I gasped out, glaring up at the girl who looked as tired as I felt. "What are you doing in here? It's only-" I cast a glance out the window "- _the crack of dawn_!"

"Oliver's called a practice," she replied.

"A practice for what?" I asked, still rather disheveled due to the general fact that it was too early an hour for any thought to be rational or articulated.

"Quidditch!" replied Alicia. "Remember? You're a Chaser, I'm a Chaser, Wood's the captain..."

"Yes, yes, I remember now," I replied, sitting up. I was on the Quidditch team now - I had made it onto the team back in first year, despite first years generally not being allowed to be on Quidditch teams. At first, I had only been a backup Chaser, but I had been promoted to the position of a regular Chaser - and had only competed in one of the three matches, seeing as I was only a reserve member the first match and unconscious in the Hospital Wing for the second one. "I will be out in a few minutes."

* * *

" _I_ am exhausted," I mumbled, leaning my head on Harry's shoulder as we sat in the locker room, listening to Wood introduce new Quidditch plays - well, struggling to pay attention to him and ignore how our bodies still longed for rest.

"Tell me about it," he replied. My eyes widened as suddenly, the blackboard vanished.

"Yes! Finally!" I exclaimed. Wood raised an eyebrow but nonetheless led the way out onto the pitch, where Ron and Hermione were waiting.

"What took so long? Are you done yet?" asked Hermione.

"Haven't even started," replied Harry.

"Oh, bother, trouble at four o'clock," I mumbled, noting seven students in green and silver Quidditch robes coming out onto the pitch - in other words, the Slytherin Quidditch team. Wood, however, was already onto the problem.

"What's this?" he demanded. "I reserved the pitch especially! What's the meaning of this, Flint?!"

"Professor Snape has given us special permission to use the pitch," replied Flint, handing over a note, which Oliver seized and read.

"Need to train your new Seeker?" he mumbled. "Where's this new Seeker, then?"

"Please don't let it be who I think it is," I mumbled as the taller Quidditch players moved aside, revealing the new Seeker. "Damn, I jinxed it, didn't I?"

"Draco Malfoy," replied Flint. "And look what his father's gotten as a gift for the team."

"Nimbus Two Thousand and One's," mumbled Oliver, looking entirely awestruck.

"Much better than some of your members' broomsticks," drawled Malfoy, with a pointed glance at the twins' Cleansweeps.

"At least none of the people on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way onto the team," bit back Ron, his arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah," added Hermione. "Everyone on our team got in pure talent."

"Nobody asked your opinion," spat Malfoy. "Why don't you just shut up, you filthy Mudblood?"

"Oh, that's it, Malfoy," I said, shoving my broomstick into Harry's arm and pulling my wand out.

"Everybody back away from her," warned Hermione to the Gryffindor team, who all moved back a couple steps.

"Slugulus Eructo!" I said, pointing my wand at Malfoy and stumbling a bit from the knockback of the Slug-Vomiting Charm.

"What's that do?" asked Harry quietly, looking at the boy, who lay on the ground, his face considerably greener than it had been before. As if in response, he suddenly flipped over as a slug came out of his mouth. Satisfied, I turned away.

"You're bloody scary sometimes," mumbled one of the twins, but both were wearing identical grins.

"You haven't seen nothing," I replied, casting a glance back over my shoulder.

* * *

"What's Mudblood mean?" asked Hermione as we walked back up to the castle.

"You don't want to know," I replied. Upon her insistent gaze, I sighed. "It's a really foul word for someone who's Muggleborn - it literally means 'dirty blood.'"

"But that's awful!" exclaimed Hermione. "It's bigoted, and racist, and discriminatory-"

"I told you you wouldn't want to know," I replied, cutting her off. "Hey, Ron, where's Ginny nowadays?"

"Ginny?" repeated Ron. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I hear she can cast a wicked Bat Bogey Hex," I replied. The other three all turned to look at me.

"No. More. Hexes."

* * *

"I have detention tonight," announced Harry to Hermione, Ron, and I as we sat on the couches in the common room doing homework - well, at least on mine and Hermione's part as Ron tried to peek off our work and Harry just sat, doing nothing up until his abrupt announcement.

"Who with?" I asked curiously.

"Lockhart," he replied with a grimace. I gasped melodramatically.

"Not the Gilderoy Lockhart!" I cried. "Oh, my dear Harry, I am so very sorry for your horrid hardships."

"Oh, he can't be that bad, can he?" asked Hermione. Harry, Ron and I all turned to look at her.

"Have you even _met_ the man, Hermione?" asked Ron. "He is the most arrogant."

"Most self-centered," added Harry.

"Most overbearing," supplied Ron.

"Presumptuous egomaniac," I finished.

* * *

"How was it?" I asked as Harry entered the common room at an hour dangerously close to mine of just three nights ago.

"Hell. Torture. The list goes on," he replied, throwing himself onto the couch. "Why'd you stay up?"

"Felt like it," I replied, holding out my hand and observing my nails. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You really can read me like a book," commented Harry. I shrugged in response. "While I was doing detention, I... I heard a voice."

"I knew it!" I exclaimed automatically.

"Knew what?" asked Harry confusedly.

"You've always been crazy," I replied triumphantly. He groaned.

"It's not funny, Holly," he said. "I'm not kidding. I heard this voice... it was almost like hissing..."

"Snakes are talking to you," I declared dramatically.

"Please, just take me seriously for once? I'm not lying," sighed Harry.

"Alright, I won't make fun of you," I replied. "What did the voice say?"

"It was high and eerie, and it was saying, 'Come to me... let me rip you apart...' and other stuff like that," replied Harry. I stared at him blankly.

"Okay. You hear a voice that sounds like a snake that wants to eat flesh?" I asked for confirmation. "Did Lockhart hear it?"

"No," replied Harry. "He just carried on like nothing had happened."

"Odd," I mumbled, tapping a finger to my chin. "Alright, I've narrowed it down to three possibilities. Option one : You're going mad and hearing voices. Option two : Lockhart is hard of hearing. Option three : It's something else and I'm going to need to look into it."

"Well, I know for sure that it's not the first or second one," replied Harry.

"Alright, I'll look it up in the library," I replied, getting up and making for the portrait hole. I quickly turned around in my tracks. " _After_ I go to bed."

 **A/N : That's right, you can't look it up after curfew. Silly Holly.**


	5. Of Halloween and Horror Scenes

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter V : Of Halloween and Horror Scenes_

 **Date : 1 October 1992**

October arrived all too soon, and it brought with it brisk weather causing many students to catch cold, though this was quickly cured by Madam Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potions, with the minor side effect that the patients were left smoking at the ears for hours.

"No," I argued, in a rather nasally voice due to a stuffy nose. "I'm fine, I don't need a - ACHOO!"

"Bless you," said Harry quickly. "That sure sounds like 'fine' to me."

"Oh, Merlin, that hurts," I mumbled, sniffling. "Hey, this isn't the way to lunch!"

"I know it's not," replied Harry. "We are on our way to the Hospital Wing to get you some medicine."

* * *

"I'm honestly not sure if you looked better before or after you went to the Hospital Wing," commented Hermione. "It looks like your entire head is on fire with your bright red hair and the smoke."

"Sheesh, thanks, Hermione," I replied sarcastically. "I'm mad enough at Harry right now to be on fire."

"Speak of the devil," muttered Ron under his breath as Harry joined us.

"I... have gotten myself into a little situation," he declared.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry, stop getting yourself in trouble!" I exclaimed, rolling my eyes.

"I'm not in trouble - well, not with a professor, at least," replies Harry. "You see... I may or may not have somehow told Nearly Headless Nick that I was going to be attending his Deathday Party..."

"Harry, Harry, Harry," I chastised, shaking my head. "There's no backing out of it now."

"I know... I was wondering if any of you would come with me," explained Harry. "It's on Halloween."

"And miss the feast?" asked Ron. I rolled my eyes. He sure did love his food. All three of us turned to Hermione.

"As lovely and fascinating as that sounds, Harry, I'm not sure I'm interested," she said. I groaned.

"Please, Willow?" asked Harry, his green eyes that I shared practically begging. I sighed.

"I will," I replied. He lit up. "But on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Never get me to drink Pepper-Up Potion again."

"Agreed."

* * *

 **Date : 31 October 1992**

As Halloween approached, I found myself regretting my decision with each passing day. As the other students enthused about the feast, Harry and I found ourselves dreading it.

Nonetheless, at seven o'clock sharp, we knocked on the door to one of the spacious rooms in the dungeons, and were immediately greeted by the same person who had invited us.

"Ah, Harry, so glad you could make it!" he said morosely, quite contrary to his cheerful words. "And what a pleasant surprise, Miss Leavitt. Please, please, do make yourselves comfortable..."

Shivers went up my spine as we entered the party room, which was as mournful as Nick's tone had been.

"Is that supposed to be _music_?" I mumbled to Harry, hearing what sounded more like nails on a chalkboard from the direction of a playing band. He shrugged in response as we slowly walked around. "Hold on - back up - I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle."

"Moaning Myrtle?" repeated Harry. "Who's that?"

"She's a particularly awful ghost," I answered. "She haunts a toilet in the third floor girls' bathroom."

"She haunts a toilet?" asked Harry. I nodded. "And I thought Nearly Headless Nick was bad."

"Oh, you have no idea," I replied, and fanfares suddenly sounded, startling me out of my thoughts. "What... Us that!"

Twelve or so horses started to ride into the room, each with a rider on top, with their heads held by their sides.

"The Headless Hunt," answered Harry. "They rejected Nick - it's why I agreed to come, he had just gotten the letter..."

"Live 'uns!" exclaimed one of the horsemen, righting his head as his horse galloped towards us. "I suppose you're friends with Nicholas, then, are you?"

I shot Harry a wink before replying, "Oh, no, of course not. He's so scary and frightening, he basically terrified us into coming!"

The ghost seemed not to be expecting that. "Really?" he asked interestedly. "Well, that changes... quite a bit..."

He rode away, and Harry shot me an amused glance.

"Terrified us into coming, eh?" he teased.

"Oh, I just basically secured his place with the Headless Huntsmen, if what I've read about them is correct," I replied, watching with a mix of horror and amusement as the Headless Hunt started to... play catch with their heads. "He can thank me later... I hope they still have some good food left at the Halloween Feast."

The two of us bid farewell to Nick and left the party, going out into the corridor.

"Hold on a second," said Harry, stopping suddenly. He tilted his head to the side. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I asked curiously. Suddenly, I heard a sort of high, cold voice.

" _Kill... tear... let me rip you apart_..." it hissed. I gasped, turning to face Harry.

"You're... not crazy after all," I mumbled.

"Hurry, let's follow it!" exclaimed Harry. I turned to look at him, bewildered.

"You just heard a hissy voice that no one else can hear but us talking about how it wants to kill, and your first idea is to follow it?!"

Nonetheless, just moments later we were speeding down the corridor after the bodiless voice.

"Where'd it go?" I asked, pressing my ear against the wall. "I can't hear it..."

"Look here," pointed out Harry." There's a trail of water here..."

We followed it before coming, to a wall, and all the color drained from my already pale face as I looked up and read what was written on the wall in what appeared to be chicken blood.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened," I read aloud in a quiet voice. "Enemies of the heir, beware."

"And look what's beside it," whispered Harry. I did so, and immediately regretted it.

For hanging by her tail was none other than the caretaker's cat, Mrs Norris.

I felt my eyes roll back into my head as I slumped to the floor in a dead faint, my vision flooded by darkness.

 **A/N : Ah... darling fainting Holly... it has been a while.**


	6. Of Founders and Falls

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter VI : Of Founders and Falls_

 **Date : 1 November 1992**

"This is confusing," I said with a sigh as I sat in the Hospital Wing with Harry and Ron. Though I had suffered no injuries, I had been admitted after apparently fainting. I couldn't remember a thing, however. "I remember the Deathday Party - that was the one that I said I'd go to if you didn't give me Pepper-Up Potion again, right, Harry?"

"Correct," he replied.

"And so as we walked back from this party - which really wasn't all that great - this is where my memory's blurred. According to you, I heard the voices you've been hearing and we followed them?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"We heard a voice whispering about how it longs to eat flesh and _followed_ it?" I asked. "Seems rather daft, if you ask me. What happened next?"

"So, we followed the voice until we saw a trail of water, and followed that to a wall," replied Harry.

"A wall," I repeated. "Did I slip on the water and hit my head on the wall and subsequently suffer a concussion and be knocked unconscious and therefore end up being admitted to the Hospital Wing?"

The two stared blankly at me before Harry decided to stop trying to decipher what I had just said and continue.

"And there was a cat hanging from a torch on the wall... that cat being Mrs Norris," he explained.

"Oh, dear," I mumbled. "I hate that cat, but she didn't deserve to _die_!"

"She didn't die," said Ron quickly. "They found out she was just Petrified."

"Petrified," I repeated. "Oh, Merlin. This is confusing."

"That's not all," said Harry. I raised an eyebrow. "There was a message written on the wall... in blood."

"Ew," I said immediately.

"It read, ' _The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir,_ _beware.'_ "

"The Chamber of Secrets?" I repeated. "Do either of you have any idea what this means?"

"Quite frankly, we were hoping you might," replied Ron. "We'd ask Hermione, but you know how she gets when we ask for simple definitions," replied Ron. He put on a fake high voice. " _The Philosopher's Stone is a stone invented by Nicolas Flamel and-_ "

"Godric Gryffindor, I haven't heard a sentence of it and she's not even saying it, but I'm already feeling like going back to sleep," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. "There's a page on it in _Hogwarts : A History_ , though you'd probably be better off asking Professor Binns in History of Magic."

"Professor Binns?" repeated Harry. "You and I are thinking of the same person, aren't we?"

"Yay tall," I said, holding out my hand to the side, "pearly white hair... and teeth... and skin... a couple of inches off the ground," I summarized the ghost rather humorously, apparently, as Ron snickered. "He probably doesn't remember your names, but he'll undoubtedly know a thing or two about the chamber. Run along now - as I recall, you two have him in approximately five minutes."

* * *

"Well, what did you discover?" I jumped on Harry and Ron the moment they got out of the class. They stared at me.

"How long have you been standing there?" asked Ron. I shrugged.

"Since I got here, which I did right after I got out of the Hospital Wing, which was at about nine thirty, and since it's ten o'clock now..." My brow furrowed as I struggled to do the math. "Er-"

"Half an hour," answered Hermione as she emerged from the classroom. "You couldn't do the math?"

"Hey, it's not my fault that they don't teach any practical subjects," I replied. "So, what did you guys learn about the Chamber of Secrets?"

"So it's _you_ they got the idea from," muttered Hermione under her breath.

"So, apparently, almost a thousand years ago, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin and - what was Hufflepuff's name again?"

"Helga," supplied Ron. Harry nodded his thanks and continued.

"And Helga Hufflepuff founded the school, and-"

"Hold on," I interrupted. "I thought I said to ask about the Chamber of Secrets, not the founders."

"Well, this ties into it, you see," replied Harry. "They all got along fantastically, until Slytherin came up with the idea of excluding all Muggleborns from the school."

"Barmy git," I muttered under my breath. The other three all turned to look at me. "Well, don't let my opinions stop you, Harry. Do continue."

"He offended the other three, and so they banished him from the school," he continued.

"Wait, they _banished_ him because he made a suggestion?" I asked. "I think you skipped over a fact or two, Harry."

"Well, they got into a huge disagreement over it and he ended up walking away with his nose turned up."

" _That_ makes more sense. Go on."

"It's rumored that before he left, he created a secret chamber within the school," explained Hermione. "A chamber that only his true heir could open, when he did attend Hogwarts."

"And what's in the chamber?"

"It is said that within the chamber - known as the Chamber of Secrets - there was a monster, one that would lie dormant until the heir awakened it... and that the true heir would unleash the horrors within upon the school to cleanse it of the filth."

"The filth? Like, a janitorial monster?"

"No - not that type of filth, the filthy blooded."

"Oh." My eyes widened as I took in the information, carefully trying to sift through it. "So, now the heir is at Hogwarts?" They nodded.

"Well, it's not confirmed, but it's suspected," replied Ron.

"So, who can you think of that wants to eliminate all Muggleborns?" I asked, my head tilted to the side as I thought upon it. "Well, class starts now, we'll regroup after, alright?"

* * *

As it turned out, our four minds together had come up with only one name.

Well, the other three's minds, that is.

"You really think it's Malfoy?" I asked. "I mean, I know he loathes Muggleborns, is in Slytherin, and acts the part... but do you really think he'd want to _cleanse_ the school of them?" I frowned. "Hold on a second... Filch's cat isn't a Muggleborn. Filch isn't a Muggleborn. Why was Mrs Norris targeted?"

Harry looked around the corridor before lowering his voice to a whisper. "It's because Filch is a Squib," he replied. I gasped.

" _That_ explains a lot!" I exclaimed. "Hold on just a short moment... how do you know?"

"I saw a letter when he tried to give me detention - which was when Nick got Peeves to distract him, which was the other part of the reason I agreed to attend the Deathday party..." he replied. "Kwikspell."

"How is that spelled?" I asked curiously. The other three once again turned to look at me. "What? I doubt it's spelled Q-U-I-C-K S-P-E-L-L."

"It's spelled K-W-I-K spell," replied Harry. "It's one word... why does it matter?"

"Because when someone accounts all of my life - which they undoubtedly will, seeing as I'm so awesome - I want everything to be spelled right," I replied. "Now. Back to the topic. I doubt it's Malfoy."

"Really? You?" asked Hermione. "Even I find it believable - and I'm not the one who cursed him twice in a week."

"Yes, I loathe him, but that's no reason to let it cloud my judgement," I replied. "Think rationally here. If I were to... say... call Dean an awful name because of his skin color, right now, would you suspect me of being the one to try and kill his cat?"

"No," replied Ron immediately.

"Exactly. He insulted you, sure, but he's _twelve years old_. Unless he's seriously mentally disturbed, I doubt he's unleashing a giant monster on cats in his spare time."

"Any other suggestions?"

* * *

 **Date : 7 November 1992**

"Quidditch!" I exclaimed gleefully, slipping into the seat between Ron and Hermione. "What's with the PMF, Harry?"

"PMF?" he repeated. I nodded.

"Oh, yes," I replied. "You've got a bad case of it."

"What's this?" asked Fred.

"About a PMF?" added George. "We haven't heard that term since..."

They looked at each other before finally chiming, "A while ago."

"Well, what's old is new again," I replied. "Harry's having a lovely bout of it."

"What's a PMF?" asked Harry finally.

"A Pre-Match Freakout," I replied simply. "You're not eating, and I'd imagine your stomach feels like it's tied up in knots."

"I can't help it," replied Harry. "I haven't played a game of Quidditch since March..."

"Oh, puh-lease, it's not like your talent went away in eight months," I replied. "Might I remind you that in that match, you caught the Snitch within two minutes of its being released - setting a Hogwarts record, by the way. And there's no stuttering professor who's actually got Voldemort on the back of his head to jinx your broom... you'll be _fine._ "

At the time, I certainly wished I was right.

At the time, I had been ignoring how silly a hope it was to think all would go well for Harry Potter, the boy who seemed to be magnetically attracted to danger.

* * *

We were about halfway into the match, and Slytherin was squashing us, 110-50. I cast a nervous glance towards the Seekers. Luckily, it appeared that Malfoy was an awful Quidditch player whose only redeeming quality was that his father had a lot of money to purchase brooms for the other team, so Harry had a huge chance of catching the Snitch.

All of the players on our team landed on the ground as Oliver Wood called a timeout.

"Alright, team, they are pulverizing us!" he exclaimed.

"No sugar," I muttered under my breath.

"Harry, you need to get that Snitch or die trying, else we aren't going to win this match."

"On it, Wood."

"Let's get back up there and play!"

We all mounted our brooms and flew up, and the game resumed.

"EEP!" I screeched, flipping on my broom as a Bludger suddenly changed course in midair and came flying for my head. I turned around, watching it as it made a beeline for Harry, who narrowly dodged. I frowned, and screamed a, "LOOK OUT!" as it turned around like a boomerang and tried to hit him again. _That's unusual._

I caught the Quaffle, and tore my eyes away from his being targeted to quickly zip across the pitch and punch it through one of the hoops. I cast a glance over my shoulder, and found the Weasley twins seeming to circle Harry as the Bludger continued to fly at him.

Suddenly, they left him, and he started to fly around the pitch, narrowly avoiding the Bludger each time it tried for a hit on him. I dodged the other Bludger and intercepted a pass from one Slytherin Chaser to another, throwing it to Alicia Spinnet.

I heard Malfoy taunting Harry, and then he suddenly shouted. I looked up, to where Harry seemed to be charging at Malfoy, but there was a gold speck next to the Slytherin Seeker's ear.

 _The Snitch._

He caught it, and I let out a cheer, but the Bludger came flying and he didn't dodge in time. I screamed as he fell to the ground, throwing the Quaffle over my shoulder as I sped up on my broom to try and catch him.

"Harry!" I cried as he hit the ground, my borrowed school broom not being fast enough to break his fall. "Oh Merlin, are you alright?"

He groaned, rolling onto his back and clutching his left arm to his chest, opening it to reveal a small gold ball, its wings folded up against its body. "I won it," he coughed out. "Oh, no..."

I followed his gaze to where the teachers were coming over, headed by Lockhart. "Harry!" he called out, kneeling by his side. He tutted, examining his arm. "Broken wrist... luckily, I know just the thing."

"No..." croaked out Harry as Lockhart pulled out his wand.

"Brackium Emendo," he said, and I watched in horror as Harry's arm seemed to... lose all sort of shape and lie entirely flat.

"You vanished his bones, you idiot!" I exclaimed. "Oh, bother... come here, Harry."

I helped him to his feet, and his arm hung limply at his side.

"Are you hurt otherwise?" I asked him, examining him. He shook his head.

"Well, on the bright side," he said, looking at his arm, "it doesn't hurt anymore."

* * *

"Madam Pomfrey really is awesome," I commented as I pulled aside the curtains to Harry's hospital bed. "It's after visiting hours, but she said I could visit you, as long as I keep it below five minutes and I keep it quiet." I waved my wand at the curtains, mumbling a charm so no others could hear us. "Now, _that_ is a useful spell."

"Holly?" asked Harry. "Weren't you here an hour ago?"

"Oh, yes," I replied. "But I just wanted to see my darling brother again."

All of a sudden, a crack resounded and a creature appeared on the bed on top of Harry, so suddenly that I barely caught a glimpse of it as I fell backwards in the chair I had pulled up. I quickly sat up, and my eyes widened as they locked with his tennis ball like eyes - both in shape and color.

"It's a house elf," I gasped out, righting the chair.

"Dobby is terribly sorry, Harry Potter's friend, Dobby thought Harry Potter would be alone-" it squeaked out, and brought its hand up as if to snap. I quickly grabbed his hand.

"No," I said sternly. "You are not going anywhere. You are going to explain to me why exactly you don't want my brother at Hogwarts."

"Your... brother?" repeated Dobby. "Oh! This is Holly Potter! It is such an honor, miss, such an honor-"

"I am sure you think so, Dobby, but a witch just gave you an order... and said witch is perfectly able to use both of her hands, unlike her brother..." I warned threateningly, blowing a piece of hair out of my face.

"Well, you see, Miss Potter, there is a great danger at Hogwarts... a danger that poses great threat to Harry Potter!"

"What specifically?" I asked, trying my best to keep my voice quiet.

"Dobby must not say," replied Dobby. "Dobby has been ordered not to say by his master."

"Who is your master, Dobby?" I demanded. Dobby looked nervously around.

"Dobby is enslaved to the Malfoys, Miss Potter," he replied. "But Dobby - Dobby is trying to protect Harry Potter! This is why Dobby intercepted the mail and sealed the barrier and tampered with-" He covered his mouth with a hand, his large eyes widening even more with horror. "Dobby has said too much-"

"You kept my letters from getting to him... and him from getting to Hogwarts... and cursed a Bludger so it would try and kill him?" I asked, my tone low but threatening. Dobby whimpered.

"Dobby never meant to kill, Holly Potter," he replied. "Dobby only meant to incapacitate so Harry Potter would have to return home!"

I sighed exasperatedly, casting a glance at Harry, who shrugged. "Dobby, is this danger... is it related to Voldemort?"

"Oh, Miss Potter mustn't speak the name!" cried Dobby, pulling his long ears against his head. He thought for a moment before replying, "Yes."

"Is it He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?" I pressed further. Dobby shook his head before snapping his fingers and disappearing. I sighed, leaning back in my chair.

"How'd you get so much information out of him?" asked Harry.

"I grew up with house elves," I replied. "Now, we know for sure that that elf is trying to get you sent home, and that there's a danger at Hogwarts related to Voldemort, and that he's working for Malfoy's father."

"As useful as that is," replied Harry, "what are we supposed to do now?"

"Well, Harry," I replied, "as one who tries to be prepared for everything and plan for it, I have only one piece of advice for you."

"Wing it."

 **A/N : Whew, that was long! Sorry 'bout the length of it... hope I didn't prolong it too terribly much.**


	7. Of Cameras and Caution

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter VII : Of Cameras and Caution_

 **Date : 8 November 1992**

"Good morning, sun-" I stopped in skipping and greeting my brother as my gaze was drawn to the bed next to him, where another boy lay.

He lay still as a statue, his hands out as if holding something and his eyes wide.

Said boy was Colin Creevey - the exact same one who had tried to get a signed photograph of Harry. I sat myself down in the chair next to Harry's bed.

"Yeah," he replied. "They brought him in last night."

"He's Muggleborn, isn't he?" I asked curiously, peering intently at the petrified boy as if his appearance would confirm my suspicions. Harry nodded.

"He was holding a camera," he replied, "and they tried to look at the film... but it was all burnt and melted."

"So, he tried to snap a picture of whatever attacked him and it melted the film?" I mumbled under my breath. "What did they say?"

"Dumbledore said that this confirms his fears," replied Harry. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened again."

"Again?" I repeated. "This has happened before?" I paled as I thought of it. "But... I thought Salazar Slytherin's monster aimed to kill, not to immobilize."

"Maybe this is supposed to be a warning?" suggested Harry.

"I don't know," I replied, "but I know for sure that I'm not liking the feel of this. What's going to happen to him now?"

"Well, apparently, Professor Sprout is growing Mandrakes," replied Harry.

"And the mature Mandragora can be cut up and used to make Mandrake Restorative Draught," I recited. I cast a glance at his arm, now out of the cast it had been in last night. "Well, you're free to go now, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he replied, getting up from the hospital bed. "Good as new."

"Well, come on, you're going to miss breakfast!"

* * *

 **Date : 15 November 1992**

I tend to wake up earlier than the other girls in my dormitory. This meaning that the only first year Gryffindor that ever had a chance of waking up before me was Hermione Granger.

On this particular day, however, she failed to do so, and so I was the first to see the notice plastered on the bulletin board in the common room of our year.

"Duelling Club," I read aloud. "Meet in the Great Hall at seven pm if interested."

"What's this?" asked Hermione, coming up behind me. I flinched at her sudden making her presence known, making her laugh. "You're really too jumpy, Willow."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, pick on the easily startled," I replied, rolling my eyes. "They are holding a Dueling Club tonight at seven."

"Oh, that sounds splendid!" exclaimed Hermione. I shook my head in disagreement.

"Au contraire, my dear Hermione," l replied. "Dueling is part of Defense Against the Dark Arts, so guess who's going to be hosting it?"

"Honestly, Willow, I know you don't like him, but he is quite the capable wizard," reasoned Hermione.

"Capable wizards don't vanish bones. Capable wizards don't unleash pixies and have their students put them back. A capable wizard would have taught me more about fighting the Dark Arts than Quirrell, who had the very embodiment of the Dark Arts sticking out the back of his head." My words were quiet, but my tone was deadly. "So next time you talk about him being competent, remember that actions speak louder than words." And with that, I left the common room, the portrait slamming shut behind me.

* * *

"I don't wanna go," I moaned into the arm of the couch.

"Come on, Willow, it'll be fun," said Harry, poking my side. I yelped and jumped away, and somehow because I had my head on the arm of the couch managed to flip myself off the aforementioned piece of furniture. His eyes widened before he burst out in laughter. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"He's trying to kill me, I swear," I muttered. "Come _on_ , then, Harry." His laughter finally faded away.

"You're really too jumpy, Willow," he teased. I scowled at him.

"You're going to need to do better than that if you want me to come to the Dueling Club, Harry," I replied.

"Come on, Willow, it won't be that bad," tried Hermione. "I hear Professor Flitwick was quite the accomplished duelist back in his day."

"But I don't want to unleash my full arsenal of hexes and jinxes and the like on you guys," I replied. "I kind of like you."

"Aww, thanks," said Harry sarcastically. "With your luck, you'll be paired up with a Slytherin and you can make them vomit slugs or snort out bats or whatever strikes your fancy."

I contemplated it for a moment before breaking out in a wide grin. "Lead the way."

* * *

"Come a little closer now... can everyone hear me? Can everyone see me? Splendid!"

"No," I muttered. "Not splendid. This is the last thing I want to see. Where's Flitwick? I know he's short, but I should have seen him by now..."

"He's not here," replied Harry. I turned to stare at him as Lockhart continued to blab on.

"Now, I'd like to introduce my assistant, your lovely Potions professor, Professor Snape!" exclaimed Lockhart dramatically. "Now, we will be doing a demonstration..."

"Yay," I said with a grin. "Bet you a Galleon Lockhart makes a fool out of himself."

"Bet you two-"

"You two," said Hermione, interrupting us. The moment she turned, I turned back to Harry.

"Ten Galleons Snape beats Lockhart before he can cast a spell," I muttered quickly. He nodded and we turned back to the stage, where Snape and Lockhart stood on opposite ends, each with their arms up in dueling stance.

"One... two... three!" counted Lockhart.

"Expelliarmus!" called out Snape immediately, and Lockhart was thrown back against the wall and his wand flew into Snape's hand. I held out my own hand and felt coins placed in it. I grinned, and clapped for a moment before awkwardly realizing nobody else was applauding.

"Smooth," mumbled Harry, and I smacked him, quickly placing the coins in my coin purse as Hermione turned around to shoot us a glare.

"Now, now," said Lockhart, brushing himself off as he got up, "I let Severus win that one, of course..." I rolled my eyes. "Now, we'll split you into pairs..." I immediately nudged Harry, who nudged me back.

"Now, that just won't do," drawled Snape, observing the crowd. "Let's see here... Potter with Malfoy, Granger with Bulstrode, Weasley with Crabbe... Leavitt with Parkinson."

"Who's Parkinson?" I mumbled, looking around the Great Hall. Harry gestured a girl whose face immediately reminded me of a pug, who was sizing me up with a look of contempt. "Remember, Sardina Fremitus."

"Wait, what's that do?" asked Harry as I got my wand out.

"Sardine Hex," I replied simply, walking towards my partner and standing across from her.

"Remember... Disarming only!" called out Lockhart. Parkinson shot me a smirk that told me she certainly didn't intend to listen. "And, begin!"

"Tarantellegra!" she said automatically, and I swiftly moved to the side to dodge.

"Rictusempra!" I shot back, and she dodged as well, responding with a hex of her own.

"Colloshoo." I jumped the Stickfast Hex, narrowly missing it. I cast a glance around, where Malfoy and Harry were dueling not unlike ourselves, and Millicent Bulstrode, a giant girl from Slytherin, seemed to have tossed her wand aside and had Hermione in a headlock.

"Mucus Ad Nauseam!" I cast quickly, and Parkinson was too slow to dodge it.

I grinned as she immediately developed a cold and started to sneeze, gasping out, "Lacarnum Inflamari."

A jet of flames shot out the tip of her wand and immediately went to the edge of my robes. I screamed, trying to stamp out the flames as she shot another hex, which I narrowly ducked, muttering, "Titillando."

"Locomotor Mortis!" she called out quickly just before the Tickling Hex hit her and she fell to her knees, gasping out laughter. I couldn't dodge the Leg-Locker and fell to the ground, at which point Snape intervened.

"Finite Incantatem," he said, and I regained control of my legs as my robes stopped burning while Parkinson stopped laughing, but continued to sniffle.

"Very good, you two ladies!" exclaimed Lockhart. "Perhaps you'd like to demonstrate?"

Before I could argue, he had seized one of my arms in one hand and one of Parkinson's in the other, pulling us to the front. I frowned, but took my place at one edge of the stage, turning to face my opponent.

"Bow to your opponent!" I gave a curt nod of the head that could hardly be classified as a bow, but as Parkinson did the same, Lockhart didn't protest. "And... begin!"

"Expelliarmus!" I cast quickly, but she dodged, leaping to the side and casting, "Fernunculus!"

"Locomotor Wibbly!" I called back, dropping to the ground and rolling to the side to dodge her low shot. She jumped the hex, and Professor Snape mumbled something in her ear.

My eyes widened as she nodded at him, immediately pointing her wand and shouting, "Serpensortia!" A long black snake formed seemingly from midair, and I yelped, leaping back as it tried to snap at me.

Lockhart, noting this, lifted his own wand and mumbled some sort of nonsense that launched the snake into the air. When it landed, it was considerably angrier, and set itself on a Hufflepuff boy whose name I could not remember for the life of me.

"Stop it!" I shouted at the snake, and it turned to me, seeming to have understood. My eyes widened as its locked with mine. "Leave him alone!" I added, and the snake slithered away. As Snape cast a spell that successfully vanished the snake, I was made aware of almost everyone in the Great Hall staring at me, eyes wide.

"You are dismissed," announced Lockhart, and confused, I leapt off the side of the stage, meeting up with Ron, Hermione and Harry.

"What's up?" I asked, as Ron and Hermione were staring at me. "Harry?"

"No clue," he replied.

"No clue?" repeated Ron. "You - you talked to the snake!"

"Well, yeah," I replied. "What? I was trying to get him away from... oh, what's his name..."

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," supplied Hermione, "and you succeeded."

"Well, yeah," I replied. 'What are you getting at?"

"We didn't hear you trying to get him away from Justin," said Ron. I looked at him, quite flabbergasted. "We heard hissing."

"Hissing?" I repeated. "I was _hissing_? Harry, was I hissing?"

"Don't ask me, I heard you just fine," he replied, his hands held up in surrender.

"Really?" said Ron. "You - that's not a normal thing!"

"Hold on a second," I said, holding up a finger. "Are you saying that we're Parselmouths?" He nodded fearfully. "Like Salazar Slytherin?" He nodded again. "So the reason everyone's staring is because they think I'm the heir of Slytherin?" He nodded once more. "What a load of bullshit."

"Miss Leavitt," said Snape, coming up behind me. I jumped, turning around. "Please come with me."

I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder as I followed him out of the Great Hall and through the corridors to his office. The moment I entered, the door shut behind me and Snape turned to me. "Miss Leavitt, who is your mother?"

"What?" I asked confusedly.

"Leavitt isn't a wizarding name, and you aren't a Muggleborn. Who is your mother?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Why do you need to know?" I asked curiously, trying to stall my answer. He didn't know who I was, and I had no intention of changing that.

"Just answer the question," he replied, just as the door swung open. I thanked my lucky stars as Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the scene before him.

"Excuse me, Severus, I'm afraid I seem to have interrupted," he said.

"Oh, don't worry, headmaster, Professor Snape and I have discussed all that needs to be discussed," I replied, leaving before either one of them could protest.

 _That_ was close.


	8. Of Suspicions and Studies

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter VIII : Of Suspicions and Studies_

 **Date : 16 November 1992**

"This is getting seriously annoying," I commented as I walked through the corridors with Harry and Ron. So far, almost every person had cast me a look of fear, surprise, or suspicion. The exception being Ron, Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley twins, who seemed to find the whole thing hilarious. "There's definitely a reason I never complained about not being well-known, Harry dearest."

"Tell me about it," he replied. "I'd rather be a nobody than have all of this Potter publicity."

"Very nice alliteration, Harry," I commented, stopping short in my tracks as I heard the voice again.

" _Come to me... fresh meat... let me rip you... let me tear you..._ "

"You hear it too?" he asked, looking at me curiously as Ron and Hermione did the same, except with more confusion.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Yes, there's nothing out of the ordinary-"

"Third floor Charms corridor," I said quickly, and disappeared behind a tapestry I knew concealed a shortcut hallway. The other three followed me, Ron and Hermione still confused.

"I'm sorry, what's happening?" asked Hermione confusedly.

"No," I mumbled, quickly rushing over to the scene in front of me. Justin Finch-Fletchley lay on the ground, still as a statue, right next to Nearly Headless Nick, who was still, the usual bright white defining his shape faded to a pale gray. "Not again..."

"I don't believe it," muttered Harry. "I'll keep an eye on them - Hermione, you get McGonagall, Ron and Willow, you get Madam Pomfrey."

The other two rushed off, but I lingered a moment. "Why are you staying?" I asked.

"'Cause the school already thinks you're the Heir of Slytherin," replied Harry. "Hurry up!"

* * *

I returned to the scene moments later, Ron having widened the gap between us so much that it would have been near impossible for me to catch up.

There were two things I was made immediately aware of.

One of these things was that someone had apparently notified the other students, as they almost all stood in the corridor.

The other was that they were not looking at the scene before them, but at me.

"Oh, _come on_ ," I muttered. "Harry, Ron will be back in a minute, he's getting Madam Pomfrey." I looked up at the crowd. "Oh, bloody hell, _stop staring_!"

"Miss Leavitt, Mr Potter," said Professor McGonagall. I gulped. "I'm going to have to ask you to follow me."

I exchanged a nervous glance with my brother as we followed her through the corridors. As we passed a portrait of goblins welding, I was made suddenly aware of where we were going. Taking advantage of McGonagall's not-the-sharpest older ears, I fell back a little, and Harry did the same.

"We're going to Professor Dumbledore's office," I muttered. He looked around, raising an eyebrow.

"So this is this way?" I nodded.

"You've never been?" I asked curiously. He shook his head. "I thought you'd spoken to Dumbles before?"

"Dumbles?" repeated Harry. He shook his head. "No, he visited me in the Hospital Wing."

"Ah," I replied as we approached two gargoyles. "Now, this is the office."

"Cockroach Cluster," spoke Professor McGonagall, and they leapt apart, revealing a large spiral staircase. "Now, the two of you should proceed up these stairs..."

I lead the way, skipping a couple of steps. "That one's a-" Harry fell up the stairs. "-doozy."

He raised an eyebrow as he picked himself up. "That's odd," he muttered, and we went up the rest of the stairs before coming across a closed door.

"Well, go ahead," I said, gesturing for him to knock.

"I think I'll let you," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Go on," I said with a smirk.

"Make me."

"Afraid?"

The door opened on its own, revealing Professor Dumbledore, who raised an eyebrow - presumably at the fact that we were up in each others' faces. "Good afternoon," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Were you here to see me?"

"Professor, it wasn't her," blurted Harry as we sat down. "She was with us the whole time and-"

"I know very well that your sister did not in any way influence the attack on Mr Finch-Fletchley, my dear boy," replied Dumbledore. "Now, some of the other professors are growing more and more suspicious, seeing as Leavitt is not a wizarding name but she has mentioned that her mother was a witch." I hung my head. "I assure you that neither of you are in any sort of... trouble, but I must ask you to be more careful."

"What if Professor Snape tries to demand an answer from me again?" I asked, looking up from my lap.

"Then you will need to do your research and find an answer for him," replied Dumbledore. "I am a very busy wizard, Holly, and I do not have the time to find this information for myself. It should only take you a few minutes, especially knowing your... particular fondness for books."

"Is that all, Professor Dumbledore?" I asked. He nodded. "COME WITH ME, BROTHER! WE HENCE TO THE LIBRARY TODAY!"

"I would advise you to follow her, Mr Potter," commented Dumbledore when he thought I was out of earshot. "She'll probably forget you're there after a few minutes of reading."

* * *

"This one and this one," I said, taking books off the shelves. I looked up when I heard footsteps. "Ah, Harry, there you are!" I tossed a few books at him, which he caught with his expert Seeker skills. "I've already gotten us a table - you can take a seat and get reading."

"I'm reading?" he questioned.

"Yep," I replied. He looked around the library.

"Er - where, exactly, is this table?" he asked. "None of these are empty."

"That one," I replied, adjusting the books so I could balance then between one arm and the shelf to point at the table in the corner. "I've already found a few other books, see."

"A few?" repeated Harry. "How long are we going to be in here for?"

"As long as we need to be," I replied, "and every minute you spend questioning it is a minute that could be spent reading!"

He groaned, but nonetheless took a seat and put the stack of books down, taking the first one off and opening it up.

* * *

"Found any names for me yet?" I inquired about ten minutes later as I set down the books I had collected. He stared at the giant stack.

"How did you carry that?" he asked as I plopped myself down in the seat next to him. I shrugged.

"Chaser muscles?" I suggested, taking one off the stack. "What names have you got? We're going for Pureblood or Halfblood here."

"Black and Fawley," he replied, sliding over two books which he had opened to the pages. I grabbed another book - 'Pureblood Family Ancestry' - and looked up Black.

"Oh, not Black," I said, my finger tracing over the names. "This is awful. These two are third cousins! They're an inbred load of blood purists - see, their motto, 'Toujours Pur,' means 'Always Pure,' or 'Forever Pure.'"

"Well, if worst comes to worst," replied Harry. "Check the Fawleys."

"I think there's already a Fawley at Hogwarts," I replied. "But..." I curiously looked over the family tree. "There is someone blasted off."

"Wait, what?" asked Harry. "Blasted off?"

"Yeah," I replied. "When someone betrays their family - in the case of the Blacks, for example, some of them married Muggles, Muggleborns and even Halfbloods - they get pruned off the family tree like dead leaves."

"That's harsh," he muttered. "So, who was blasted off?"

"Let's see..." I muttered. "E- Ev-" I took my glasses off, wiping them on my robes before replacing them. "Oh, they married a Black."

"Why would that get them blasted off?" asked Harry.

"Well, let's check the timeline," I replied. "1959-" I flipped through to the Black family tree. "And there's a guy on here who was blasted off - my guess is that he was a blood traitor in one way or another, and she didn't care, so they got married." I checked the index at the back of the book. "Ah - Prewett."

"Makes sense," commented Harry, looking over my shoulder. "Look - you could be Muriel's long lost daughter."

"Oh, shut up, Harry, she's one hundred and two," I replied. "Math doesn't work out for that." I looked through the family tree. "Oh look - Molly Weasley née Prewett. I'd be related to the Weasleys. Let's see... Ignatius Prewett and Lucretia Prewett née... Black, never mind. _Why is everyone related to the Blacks_?"

"I think we should call it quits for the night," said Harry. "Besides, it's not as if you're getting cornered and interrogated any time soon."

"Fine," I replied, and with a flick of my wand, all of the books flew back to their respective places. "Useful spell, unless-" I groaned as someone got in the way of one of the books' paths. "That happens."

Curious, I stalked over to where the person laid on the ground, having been knocked off their feet by the speed at which the heavy book was travelling. Seeing their face, I quickly grabbed Harry and pulled him out of the library, laughing gleefully as he just looked plain bewildered.

"What... was that?" he asked. I shrugged.

"That... was Malfoy."

* * *

 **Date : 23 November 1992**

"ACHOO!" I sneezed into a tissue that I had already used. I groaned, sniffling. "I hate colds - ACHOO!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You sure you don't want a Pepper-Up Potion?"

"Quite sure," I replied, tucking the tissue into my pocket. "I don't enjoy looking like I set fire to my head, contrary to Ron's beliefs."

"What?" said Ron. "I didn't think you'd take it as an insult - it actually did look wicked!"

"Yeah, yeah," I replied, my voice higher than normal because of my congested nasal passages. I quickly took another tissue out of my pocket as I sneezed again. "ACHOO!"

"I really shouldn't have made that promise," commented Harry. "Hey, Hermione, you didn't make the exchange, you know..."

"Well, of course I didn't, as I know better than to make promises I can't keep, especially to Willow," she replied. "You want me to get her a Pepper-Up Potion, don't you?"

"No! Hermione! Traitor!" I exclaimed. "ACHOO!"

"I'm getting one," she declared, making for the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"You'll never get me to - ACHOO!" I sneezed again. "Take it!"

"I'm prepared to use unnecessary force," replied Harry.

"As in?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Pinning you to the ground and holding your nose until you open your mouth, which is when I would pour the potion down your throat," he replied.

"You're evil," I muttered, begrudgingly taking the vial from Hermione. "If I take it, will you tell me about the conversation you overheard, 'Mione?"

"What conversation?" she asked. I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know about that?" I shrugged. "Fine - yes, I will."

I flipped open the cap, downing the potion in one go and grimacing at the awful taste as it made its way down my throat, filling my entire body with an unpleasant heat that escaped through my ears. "Happy?"

The three looked at me for a moment before bursting into laughter, as they had the first time this had happened. I sighed, taking a seat on the couch and waiting for them to stop.

One minute.

Two minutes.

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, shut up or I'll show you just how fiery I can get," I threatened. Three shocked faces turned to look at me.

 _That_ shut them up.

"Hermione," I said, nodding at her. She sighed.

"Well, you see," she replied. "While I was in the Hospital Wing, I noticed... Justin Finch-Fletchley, and he had a few of his friends visiting him... Ernie Macmillan, and Hannah Abbott... and they were talking."

"What about?" I pressed.

"They were talking about who they thought was the Heir of Slytherin," she replied. "More specifically, you."

"Oh, _come on_ ," I muttered. "What did they say?"

"Well, see, they were talking about how you were setting the snake on him in Dueling Club," replied Hermione, "and then Ernie said it was probably you that Petrified Justin - see, he was talking about how being a Parselmouth is the mark of a dark wizard and all and-"

"I," I muttered, "am struggling to restrain myself and not get up and punch his face in." Ron, Harry and Hermione stared at me. "What? I'm a hothead in more ways than the literal."

"That's for sure," replied Ron. "You blew up at Malfoy twice during the first week and hexed him."

"You went all out on Parkinson," piped up Hermione.

"You chewed Ron and I out for flying a car," added Harry.

"Yes, yes, let's not visit the Short Temper Memories," I replied. "And besides, Harry darling, that last one was fully justified. Hermione and I were worried the whole train ride... the _six hour train ride._ "

"Didn't we already say we were sorry?" asked Harry. I sighed, shaking my head.

"So, the Hufflepuffers think I'm the heir of Slytherin and that I was egging a snake on during Dueling Club to attack Justin Finch-Fletchley, and that I'm the reason that he got Petrified, and is there anyone else who supports this theory?" Hermione nodded sadly. "When are the holidays? Aren't almost all the students going home for the holidays? I mean," I cast a glance at the list of who was staying for the holidays. "I'm on it, and Harry's on it, and-" I squinted, trying to see any other names. "Nobody else is?" I turned to Ron and Hermione. " _We're the only Gryffindors staying for the holidays_?!"

"Er-"

"RON! HERMIONE!"

 **A/N : Poor Potters, left alone by their friends. Heh.**


	9. Of Diaries and Dreams

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter IX : Of Diaries and Dreams_

 **Date : 18 December 1992**

"Woah," I mumbled as I helped Hermione get her things down the stairs. "I can't believe term is _already_ over."

"I know," she replied. "It's not been an easy month or so, either."

"Tell me about it," I replied.

Even though a month had passed since the attack, whispers still followed me throughout the corridors. I had done nothing to convince any of the other students that I wasn't the heir of Slytherin - not for lack of trying - and while Fred and George tried to make the situation a bit less serious by walking in front of me and shouting things like, "LOOK OUT! IT'S THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN!" and, "SERIOUSLY DARK AND EVIL WITCH, COMING THROUGH!" it was still exhausting. Somehow, that drained my energy more than any of Oliver Wood's crazy break-of-dawn Quidditch practices, which he had thankfully let up on because of the colder weather.

"This is your present," said Hermione, handing back the box I had just carried down the stairs for her. I took it, laughing.

"You're mean," I replied. "I had one for you... it's up in the dormitory. I'll just go put this under my bed and save it for Christmas and retrieve yours from the same place, while I'm at it."

I rushed up the stairs, coming down moments later with two wrapped presents. "This one's yours," I said, handing her the heavier one. She raised an eyebrow. "Guess what it is."

"Hm," she replied, her head to the side in mock contemplation. "I do wonder whatever this mysteriously book-shaped package to a book lover could hold..."

I laughed, putting down the other present and pulling her in for a hug. "You have an awesome holiday, yeah?"

"Same to you," she replied. "Don't forget to write!"

"Oh, puh-lease," I replied. "Harry's entertaining and all, but two whole weeks of him being the only other second year Gryffindor? I'll probably be so bored, I'll probably be doing nothing else!"

She laughed. "He's not that bad, you know," she replied. "He can keep up a good conversation, and not to mention he's," here she giggled a little, her cheeks turning pink, " _easy on the eyes_."

"What?" I repeated. "I thought Lockhart-"

"Lockhart's good looking and all," she replied, her voice dropped to a whisper. "But Harry's eyes... and his hair - he kind of has that whole, 'I just got off my broom and I'm ready to catch some girls' look going on."

"I hate to break it to you," I replied, "but I have the same eyes he does, and his hair isn't meant to look that way. It's more of the 'I honestly don't care' look."

"Oh, come on, Willow," replied Hermione. "Don't be such a buzzkill... and besides, you know how the rumors go."

"Rumors?" I repeated, my head snapping up at such a speed that it was a wonder my neck didn't break. "What rumors? There's rumors?"

"Oh, yes," she replied. "They go something like... I don't know... he fancies you."

"Shit," I muttered under my breath. "Alright, Hermione, I'm going to tell you something. _He doesn't like me in that way_. And before you say I'm just being modest, I'm not. I know this for a fact."

"How do you know?" she pressed.

"I just do," I replied. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

And with that, I turned around and walked back up the stairs, kicking myself as I did so.

 _That_ could have gone much better.

* * *

"Hey, Harry," I said, nudging him. "We've got the common room to ourselves now."

"Indeed we do, Holly," he replied.

"However, I propose we do something else," I continued. "That takes place outside of the common room, outside of Gryffindor Tower... and outside of the school."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" he asked curiously. I nodded.

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!"

* * *

 **Date : 24 December 1992**

"I wish I knew where Fred and George got their hot chocolate from," I commented.

Harry and I were sitting in the common room in front of the fire, warming up after our eighth snowball fight of the winter holidays.

We had gotten quite bored as of recently.

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Well, on the bright side, there's a Christmas feast tomorrow."

"Mm," I replied. "Potatoes and turkey."

"And roast beef and stuffing," he added.

"And pudding!" I said gleefully.

"And trifle."

"And Peppermint Humbugs!"

"Why the hell are there Peppermint Humbugs, anyway?"

"I don't know, dear brother. I honestly don't know."

"Maybe they're supposed to be a way to freshen breath?"

"Kind of like an edible toothpaste?"

"Maybe."

"That's an absurd idea, Harry."

"I know it is, Holly."

* * *

 **Date : 25 December 1992**

"HARRY!" I screamed, rushing into the boys' dormitory and shaking him awake. "IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

"What?" asked Harry, groggily sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Holly?"

"That's me!" I replied. "Get up! Get dressed! Get down to the common room in five, or I'm going to start opening presents on my own! And you know I don't like doing so, but you might leave me no choice!"

* * *

"You're cutting it close, Harry," I said as he descended the stairs. "I thought I said to get dressed!"

"I'm too tired to get dressed," he replied. I scowled.

"Lazy butt."

"You're one to talk," he replied, eyeing my flannels with a look of contempt. "Hypocrite."

"Look!" I waved one of the wrapped boxes in front of his face. "Presents!"

He laughed. "You are possibly the last person I'd expect to be excited about presents and still in your pyjamas."

"Well, even the heir of Slytherin can enjoy Christmas," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Come on! Come on! This is the one that I got you! You have to open it first!"

He laughed, taking it. "How'd you get this?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I owl ordered it from the money I won off of you from betting," I replied. "I guess you've got Lockhart to thank for being an idiot."

He chuckled as he unwrapped it.

"It's... um..." I grinned. "Sweet of you..." He looked confusedly into the large box, covered by a layer of twelve Chocolate frogs.

"Ha, ha," I replied dryly. "That's not all of it, you know."

Curious, he took out one of the Chocolate Frogs, revealing a box underneath. He carefully held the second box, turning the first upside down. The Chocolate Frogs tumbled out, revealing a Broomstick Servicing Kit. "Now, how's that for creativity?" I teased.

"Thanks, Holly," he said cheerfully.

"No problemo," I replied. "Besides, it's my job, as your sister, to ensure you have a holly, jolly Christmas!"

* * *

 **Date : 4 January 1993**

"HERMIONE!" I squealed, throwing my arms around her the moment I reached her. "That was the longest two weeks of my life!"

"Willow!" she replied. "How are you? How was your holidays? Did you find anything out about the attacks?"

"Nothing," I replied. "Unlike my dearest bookworm friend - not that I don't love books - I spent my holidays doing things other than reading!"

"Did any of them involve a certain Harry Potter?" she asked, her tone teasing. I scowled.

"I told you," I replied. " _He doesn't like me in that way_."

"Hey, 'Mione!" exclaimed Harry. "How was your Christmas?"

"It was great!" she replied with a grin, winking at me. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The two of you have a secret?" he asked curiously. I rolled my eyes, and Hermione collapsed in a fit of giggles. Harry looked at her, bewildered. "You girls are odd."

"Tell me about it," I replied. I flinched, hearing yelling from the floor above us. "That would be Filch. Should I don my trench coat and fedora?"

"What?" asked Harry. He shook his head. "Let's go check it out."

"That's what I meant," I muttered, and Hermione, Ron and I followed him.

* * *

"Water?" I mumbled. "Did someone leave a trail again?"

"Let's follow it," replied Ron. Hermione looked up to where it lead.

"Oh, no," she mumbled. I looked up.

"We aren't following it," I added. Ron and Harry looked bewildered.

"Why?" asked Harry. "I know it's a girls' bathroom, but Ron and I don't have to go in..."

"It's not that," said Hermione grimly. "You probably could go in it - it's not like anyone else does."

"Why?" asked Ron.

"That's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," I replied. "She's the one I told you about, Harry, who haunts a toilet."

"Haunts... a toilet?" repeated Ron. I shook my head.

"Can't we just forget we saw this?" I asked as her crying started to ring out. "Pleeeeeeeease? Harry?"

"We can't just ignore it," he replied. "Come on, it'll only take a few minutes."

I threw up my hands in exasperation and begrudgingly followed them into the bathroom, where the ghost made her appearance.

Stupid ghost.

"Come to laugh, have you?" she asked mournfully. "Or chuck books? Throw books at Moaning Myrtle?" I walked over to the toilet, curiously picking up what used to be a journal and using a spell to clean it off as Myrtle continued to complain.

Stupid ghost.

"They were throwing books at you?" asked Hermione. Myrtle nodded, not ceasing her griping.

Stupid ghost.

"Oh, yes," she replied. "You should have heard what they said... Miserable Myrtle! Let's pick on her because she's dead! Twenty points if it goes through her stomach! Forty for the head!" She wailed loudly.

Stupid ghost.

"It's just a journal," I said quickly, talking over her. "Nothing but a name on the front cover : 'TM Riddle.' Can we leave now?" Myrtle let out another cry before flying up and disappearing into the toilet I had taken the book out of.

Stupid ghost.

"Yes," replied Harry.

"Oh, I could hug you right now!" I exclaimed, handing the book to Hermione. "Bookworm, do your thing. Is it cursed? It is Invisible Ink?"

She shook her head, casting a couple of spells with her wand. "No," she replied. "It's... nothing."

"All that trouble and listening to crying just because Myrtle was sad?" I asked with a sigh.

Stupid ghost.

* * *

 **Date : 18 January 1993**

"I don't believe it," said Harry, flipping through the journal again. "I don't believe it."

"Yeah, we got that the first time, mate," replied Ron.

"There's got to be something - I recognize the name from _somewhere_ ," he replied. "Where would I have read it?"

"Honestly, Harry, I thought obsessing over diaries was a girl thing." He scowled at me. "I have an idea. It's dangerous, and it would probably break about fifty school rules."

"Fifty?" repeated Harry. I laughed.

"I'm joking," I replied. "It only breaks one - come on, you two, let's visit the trophy room."

"What rule does that break?" asked Harry, getting up.

"Students are not to enter the trophy room," I replied.

"And why are we going? You really think the name will be somewhere in the trophy room?" asked Ron.

"The only other place I can think of is the library," I replied. "And we all know Harry hates reading. Come on, then, you two, hurry up!"

* * *

"AHA!" I declared dramatically, gesturing to one of the trophies with a frenzied flair. "Tommy Riddle, Award for Special Services to the School."

"It only says Tom," commented Ron.

"Same difference," I replied, rolling my eyes. "So, this was awarded way back when, about fifty years ago, and I have no clue what it's for, but now you can stop having freak outs, brother dearest! Now let's get out of here before we get into trouble!"

"Hold on a second," said Harry, hanging back. "This was awarded fifty years ago. The Chamber of Secrets..."

Ron nodded dumbly. "Fifty years ago," he replied.

"Wait, what?" I asked. "Is there something I'm missing here?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "While we were in that Transfiguration class a couple of months back and you were in the Hospital Wing, Professor McGonagall that this sort of thing had happened before. The Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago."

"Fifty years ago?" I repeated. "Special Services to the School... he must have caught the heir in the act and reported it and we have his diary and we should be able to figure out how he caught the heir and win awards of our own and this sentence is really long and-"

"You've gotten your point across," interrupted Ron. I sighed.

"What should we do?" I asked. "Should we bring this to a teacher? They'll ask where we got it from and won't believe us when we tell them the truth, will they?"

"Let's just try and decipher it," replied Harry. "Until then, we should keep a low profile."

"Darlin', please," I replied. "I'm the suspected heir of Slytherin. Low profile is a wish I just can't fulfill. Secrecy, though?" I grinned. "Secrecy's my middle name."

"Actually, it's Louise."

"Shut up, Harry."

 **A/N : Yeah, Harry. We all know what her middle name is. No need to point out the obvious.**


	10. Of Suspense and Secrecy

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter X : Of Suspicions and Secrecy_

 **Date : 14 February 1993**

"Well, I must say it's quite relieving that there haven't been any more attacks," commented Hermione as we walked through the corridor. She was right - things had calmed down considerably since Justin Finch-Fletchley had been Petrified - not meaning to say that this had calmed things down at all, but a collective sigh of relief was breathed that there had been no more attacks.

"Tell me about it," I replied. "I've almost gotten those Hufflepuffs to stop whispering and staring!" I sent said Hufflepuffs a death glare, and they immediately shut up. "I am _good_."

"Actually, I think it's more so out of fear than anything else-"

"Oh, shut up, Harry."

The only infuriating thing that was causing us grief at the moment was Lockhart - well, at least causing Harry, Ron and I grief. The professor seemed genuinely convinced that he had frightened the Basilisk into letting up on the attacks. I marvel at the fact that he could be so... incredibly _daft_.

The Mandrakes were maturing quickly - they had started to become moody and rebellious, a sign of their entrance into adolescence that I found quite hilarious when we worked with them.

Honestly. I had had the time of my life in that Herbology class, and I don't even enjoy the subject. Which is why the other three had stared at me strangely as I burst into hysterical fits of laughter for the next week.

And an added bonus of this was that soon, they would be mature and ready to be brutally chopped up and thrown in a cauldron for restorative draught that would bring Colin and Justin back and by then, hopefully, there would be no more Petrified students.

"I do hope there's some good food," I commented wistfully as we entered the Great Hall.

The sight that greeted me rivaled Justin's Petrified figure for the spot of the most sickening thing I had ever seen.

Pink.

 _Everywhere_.

There were decorations on the walls, on the tables, and there were a troupe of dwarves dressed up that were going around and taking requests for singing valentines. The man who had caused this chaos - none other than Gilderoy Lockhart himself - sat up at the Head Table, looking even more cheerful than when he saw his reflection, and that's saying something. He was clad in pink for the occasion and I held my hands over my eyes.

"It's disgusting," I mumbled, taking my glasses off so I wouldn't be able to see it as clearly. " _Why must it all be so pink_?!"

"That I don't know," replied Harry. "I know the heir of Slytherin is evil and all... but Lockhart's starting to rival that reputation."

With an expression of pure horror, I carefully lowered myself onto the bench at the Gryffindor table, shuddering at the pink doilies that adorned it. "I hope I don't get any of those singing valentines," I commented. "They seem pretty adamant."

One of the dwarves was singing a horrid rendition of some love song, to a guy who looked very, very tortured.

"Oh, please," replied Hermione. "I doubt anyone in our year likes you enough to do that..." She said this with a pointed look at Harry.

"Oh, _Hermione_ , stop with that!" I exclaimed.

"Stop with what?" asked Ron. "Is there something I'm missing?"

"Nope," I replied. "You're not missing anything." I took a piece of toast off a pink plate. "I hate pink. Next professor I see who wears pink is getting hexed."

"I don't think any of them are that enthusiastic," replied Harry. Lockhart stood up, and I started to sink under the table so I wouldn't have to look.

"Good morning, students!" he announced loudly. "I do hope you all enjoy the special touches I've made for the holiday... and maybe some of you will find love blossoming on this splendid holiday..."

I put my fingers in my ears. "La la la la la..." I muttered.

"Willow Leavitt?" I heard a gruff voice ask. Hermione's foot nudged me.

"Who is it?" I whispered.

"It's one of the dwarves!" she replied, sounding way more excited than I felt.

"Hide me," I muttered.

But the dwarf had already noticed, and thought it had me cornered. "I've got a singing valentine for one Willow Leavitt..."

I made to escape, but a leg went up and blocked me. I scowled, trying to go the other way, but one near identical blocked that path too. "I should have realized something was wrong when you two sat apart..." I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Don't worry, dear Willow," replied one of the twins.

"Yeah, we aren't that bad at poetry," added the other. The dwarf started singing.

" _Her eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

 _And her hair reminds us of the fires._

 _We wish she was ours, we'll pursue her for hours,_

 _And remind you that we're both liars_."

"Bravo," I muttered sarcastically, my face red as I took my seat again. "That was brilliant."

"Thank you, darling Willow," replied Fred.

"We do try."

"Hey, dwarfy," I muttered.

"My _name_ is Doc," he replied with a scowl.

"Whatever," I replied. "Follow me... I have got a singing valentine for you..."

"Who for?" he asked, following me. I shot a look back at the twins over my shoulder.

"Fred and George Weasley."

* * *

" _Their heads are red as the flames,_

 _Eyes like the sky but with frames,_

 _And their pranking prowess puts most others to shame..._

 _But while they've got their quirks,_

 _They're really just jerks,_

 _Who don't have an ounce of game!_ "

"That was harsh, Willow."

"Yeah, we're hurt."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure," I replied. "Admit it. That one took the cake."

"If it's not the two before it, it's that one," replied Fred. "Low blow with the comment about game... low blow."

"So. No more singing valentines... ever?"

"Agreed."

* * *

"Willow Leavitt!" called out a dwarf as I walked with Harry to Transfiguration, Hermione having convinced Ron to stay behind with her so she could ask Professor Lockhart a question.

"Not again," I mumbled.

"Didn't you call it off?" asked Harry confusedly.

"I've got a singing valentine for Willow Leavitt!" announced the dwarf. I quickly sped up, and Harry followed.

"Shit," I muttered. "He isn't stopping for anything, is he?"

"He's pushing his way through... he's catching up... he's grabbing my bag - hey, let go of that!"

The bag fell to the ground, ink spilling out of one of the bottles and getting all over it. I groaned, dropping to my knees and helping him to clean up his supplies as the dwarf started his song.

" _Her eyes shine like gems in the afternoon light,_

 _But behind the bright jewels she has quite the fight,_

 _For her temper will flare,_

 _Fiery as her hair,_

 _And yet I still have her in my sights..._

 _For every rose has its thorn,_

 _But when this one was born,_

 _None would ever know..._

 _That she'd capture my heart,_

 _All of it, not just part,_

 _This thief, this amazing Willow._ "

"Who sent that?" demanded Harry the moment the dwarf had left. "I'll kill him-"

"Chill, Harry," I replied. "Would you rather he have come up to me and said it in person? Besides, it's just a singing valentine. It's not like I'll remember it in a week."

Oh boy, was I wrong.

* * *

 **Date : 28 February 1993**

"What's up?" asked Hermione, plopping herself down on the couch next to me. I shrugged.

"Thinking," I replied simply.

"About?" she pressed, nudging me. "Come on, you can tell me."

"Well," I replied. "It's the valentine."

"The valentine?" repeated Hermione. "What valentine?"

"Harry didn't tell you?" I asked.

"Are you talking about one of the ones the twins sent you?" asked Hermione. "You know, they weren't being serious-"

"Not _those_ ," I replied. "The real one."

"What real one?" asked Hermione. "Did someone actually send you one?" She winked at me. "You know who I bet it was-"

"Before you say Harry, it wasn't," I replied. "Harry wouldn't threaten to kill

Chapter Ten : Of Suspicions and Secrecy by Ash-Caro-Lynn

himself."

"What's this?" asked Harry, coming up to us. "Sounds like you're painting me out to be suicidal."

"No, no, no," I replied with a grin. "Nothing like that. Quite the contrary, actually, we're wondering who my secret admirer is."

"And what does that have to do with me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione giggled, and I scowled at her.

"Nothing," I replied. "Nothing at all... hey, what's up with that?"

"What's up with what?"

"The journal," I said, pointing to his bag. "You've got it sticking out - I thought we cleared that up _ages_ ago."

"We did," he replied sheepishly. "It's just that I - er-"

"Are you using it?" I asked.

"Wait, what?" chimed Hermione and Harry, turning to look at me.

"Why would you think-"

"That's positively absurd-"

"I was _joking_ ," I replied. "But if you're not using it, then what purpose does it serve? There's nothing in it... is there?" I gasped, taking it from him. "You don't just carry this thing around everywhere for nothing, do you?"

"No," replied Harry, taking it back. "It's - well, I'll show you."

He pulled out a quill and an ink bottle from his bag and I watched curiously. "See, when that singing dwarf tried to give you your valentine, my bag fell," he explained. "Ink spilled out on all my things - all my things, except for this. Write your name, Hermione."

Confused, she took the quill from him and did so. She watched in amazement as it seemed to absorb the words, 'Hermione Granger.' "It's-"

"Just watch," replied Harry as words started to form on the page.

"Neato," I mumbled, watching it with fascination. "What's it say?" I grabbed my glasses off the table, where I had placed them earlier.

"It says, 'Hello, Hermione Granger. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come across my diary?'" read Hermione aloud, in awe. "This is - it's incredible, but Harry, you should be more careful. Don't tell it anything private."

"See, Tom apparently caught the heir of Slytherin," explained Harry. "Fifty years ago. There was a student unleashing a deadly monster on the school and-"

"Hold up. How do you know this for sure?" I interrupted.

"Because Tom showed me a memory," replied Harry. "It showed him - he was confronting the heir, and-"

" _Who_?"

"Hagrid."

"Hagrid?" I repeated. "As in, Rubeus Hagrid? He's a half-giant, isn't he? He's not related to Slytherin, and-"

"Fifty years ago, he was setting a monster on the school," replied Harry. "He called it 'Aragog,' and Tom caught him unleashing it in the school."

"He was unleashing a monster, Tom caught him, and so the headmaster gave Tom a trophy?" Harry nodded. "They would have expelled him - and snapped his wand - so _that's_ what the umbrella is for." I tilted my head to the side, giving it some thought. "Hagrid's no blood purist. There's no way he's responsible for these attacks."

"Then again," added Hermione, "Hagrid is rather naïve. There's a possibility that he doesn't even know the harm he's doing-"

"I was chatting with Hagrid the other day, 'Mione," I interrupted. "Just minutes before we found Justin. There's no way he was responsible."

"Then who was?"

I sighed. "You know what?" I got up. "I'm going to go to bed."

 **A/N : Think on that, darling Holly...**


	11. Of Petrification and Participation

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter XI : Of Petrification and Participation_

 **Date : 1 March 1993**

"Hurry up, you three!" I exclaimed with a grin.

"Can't help it, you're going pretty fast," replied Harry. "Where are we going, anyway? We don't have Herbology next, it's lunch time."

"I know," I replied. "We are going to Hagrid."

"Have we been at all this year?" asked Ron.

"Like I said earlier, I've been," I replied. "Don't know about you three."

I knocked on the door, and it opened, revealing Hagrid in all his terribly tall glory. "Afternoon," he said, sounding less cheerful than he had the last time I had visited. This made sense - after all, a lot had happened to put a damper on anyone's mood since the last time I had visited.

"Hey, Hagrid," I replied. "We were wondering if you'd be willing to host us for a little while."

"Sure thing," he replied, stepping back to allow us in. "Sorry, it's a bit messy..."

"That's alright," I replied, taking a seat. "See, Harry here had a few questions he wanted to ask you... your dice."

"Er - yeah," replied Harry awkwardly. "I was - er - wondering whether you knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets."

Hagrid's head snapped up from what he was doing. "What do yeh mean, the Chamber o' Secrets?"

"Well, we were thinking that because you were at Hogwarts when it was first opened, that you might be able to tell us about the last time this happened," replied Harry. Hagrid breathed a deep sigh.

"Yeh really want ter know?" he asked, and the four of us nodded enthusiastically. "See, what happened in my third year, the Chamber was opened. It was awful - there were Muggleborns gettin' attacked right an' left, none of 'em killed, but all injured." He sighed, wincing as though the memory pained him. "An' then, one of 'em was killed. Poor girl... she was found dead in the bathroom."

"What relation does Tom Riddle have to this?" I pressed. Hagrid's eyes widened.

"Where did yeh hear that name?" he demanded.

"I didn't hear it," I replied. "Just... saw it on a trophy."

"Well," he replied. "See, Riddle was a school prefect, a seventh year, and 'e was in Slytherin... and he didn' want the school ter close. But after the girl was killed, they declared tha' they were shuttin' down the school unless the attacks could be stopped... an' so Riddle was lookin' fer someone to blame."

"So he blamed you, because of Aragog."

"How do yeh know tha'?" demanded Hagrid. "I 'ad a pet spider named Aragog, and I was jus' letting 'im out fer a bite to eat, and then Riddle caught me and before I knew it, my wand was snapped an' I was cast out of 'Ogwarts."

"That's awful," I mumbled under my breath. "Sorry, Hagrid, I didn't mean to-"

"That's alrigh'," he replied. "Yeh didn't know - an' besides, there's no sense in hidin' from the past..."

"Come on," I said, beckoning for Harry, Hermione and Ron to follow me. "We'll be going now - we've got lunch to catch before our classes. Thanks, Hagrid!"

I breathed a sigh of relief as I shut the door behind me. "Why is it that we always end up coming to Hagrid when we decide to play detectives?"

"Because Hagrid always has all the answers?" suggested Hermione. I gasped melodramatically, clutching a hand to my heart.

"Why, Hermione!" I gasped out. "A bookworm like you, suggesting that Hagrid, rather than the library, has the answers!"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, now we know - the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, Hagrid was suspected, but Tom Riddle caught him and he was wrongly persecuted. So either the diary that was talking to Harry is a liar, or he genuinely suspected Hagrid. I'd suspect the latter. The girl was killed when the Chamber was opened, meaning that they were going to close the school-"

"What if," I said suddenly, "Tom Riddle was the heir of Slytherin and he was causing all the attacks, trying to wipe out the Muggleborns, but he accused Hagrid because he didn't want the school to close?"

"That's unlikely," replied Harry. I turned to him, an eyebrow raised. "He grew up in a Muggle orphanage, meaning he had a Muggle parent. No true heir of Slytherin would dream of doing such a thing-"

"Nobody ever said that the heir had to be a mirror image of the person who gave them that ancestry," I replied. "Just because he was a half-blood doesn't mean he wasn't a blood purist. It just makes his hatred unjustified - then again, so is _killing_ students."

"I'm going to sleep on it, guys. See you."

* * *

 **Date : 14 March 1993**

"Harry, Harry," I whispered. "Haaarry..." I shook him, and Harry shot up, sitting straight as a ruler as he let out a slight gasp of surprise.

"Holly!" he whispered harshly. "It's six o'clock in the morning - what are you doing here?!"

"Quidditch!" I replied. "The match is today!"

"So you're waking me up at sunrise?" he asked confusedly. I laughed.

"No, silly," I replied. "Wood's scheduled a practice!"

"Another one?" I nodded, grinning.

"At least it's not the break of dawn," I replied. "Now, get up, up, up! We've got to hustle!"

"This would be awkward if we weren't related," commented Harry, starting to get up. I grinned.

"I know."

He paused for a moment, sitting at the edge of his bed.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Be out on that pitch, pronto!"

* * *

"I'm tired," I commented, leaning heavily against Harry's shoulder as we walked out onto the pitch for the second time of the day - well, I use 'walked' rather liberally in my case, seeing as Harry was practically carrying my entire weight, what with the force which I was leaning on him with.

"Hey, walk on your own feet," he replied, lightly shoving me. "Come on, the match is starting. You can't be leaning on the Seeker's shoulder, Chasers go after the Quaffle."

I sighed, grumbling about unfairness as I stood up on my own feet. But no sooner had I taken my position than McGonagall's voice sounded over the megaphone.

"The match has been cancelled. All students are to return to their houses immediately. You will remain in your common room until further instruction is given."

I gasped, my broom dropping to the ground. I slowly turned to Harry, my mouth forming words that just wouldn't come out. He shared the glance with me as the others started to walk off the pitch. I sheepishly picked up my broomstick, and Ron joined us out on the pitch.

"What's this about, eh?" he asked. I shrugged, before scanning the crowds.

"Where's Hermione?" I asked. Ron shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied, "she left for the library earlier-"

"Mr Potter, Miss Leavitt," interrupted McGonagall. "I'm going to have to ask you to follow me." She cast a glance at Ron, who made as if to join us. "Yes, Mr Weasley, you had probably best come as well."

"What's happening, Professor?" I asked. "Are we in such deep trouble that the match was cancelled? Harry, what did you do?"

"it's not that," she replied grimly. "It's your friend, Miss Granger. She has... well, there was another attack."

" _What_?" I sped up to keep up with her brisk pace. "Hermione... was Petrified?" She nodded, and pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing. I immediately sighted her, rushing to her bedside. "Hermione," I gasped out.

"There's no use talking to her, she's been Petrified," said Ron, joining me. I smacked him with a scowl before turning back to my friend, who had an arm stretched out as if she was holding something, and her eyes were wide with fear.

"A mirror," I said automatically. "She was holding a mirror." My gaze flickered to another girl - a Ravenclaw Prefect whose name I couldn't think of, also Petrified.

"How do you know this, Miss Leavitt?" asked Professor McGonagall curiously.

"I.. don't know," I replied. "Colin had the camera. Justin... had Nearly-Headless Nick. Nick was dead already. Mrs Norris had the water on the ground - none of them would have come face to face with what did this to them. Hermione had the mirror - she had it on purpose, she knew this-" I immediately noticed that Hermione was holding something in her hand. I worked quickly to pull apart her tightly clenched fingers, pulling out a piece of paper. "-that the monster attacking students was a Basilisk."

"Miss Leavitt-"

"It's a Basilisk. Its gaze can kill in an instant, but because none of the attacked people saw it directly, they were only Petrified. Salazar Slytherin was famous for talking to snakes. He was a Parselmouth, that's why only he would be able to control it, and the heir must be a Parselmouth as well. Now, I really do look quite suspicious in this situation."

"No, you don't," replied Harry. I rolled my eyes.

"I do, but I'm not the heir," I replied.

"Miss Leavitt, I believe you have just single-handedly solved this mystery," gasped out Professor McGonagall. "But I am afraid that the three of you must now return to Gryffindor Tower."

"Come on, you two," I said, dragging the two boys who were staring at me, awestruck, out of the Hospital Wing behind me. "This changes everything."

* * *

"Why do I get the feeling we're not going to Gryffindor Tower?" asked Ron a couple of minutes after I had dragged them out of the Hospital Wing. I rolled my eyes.

"Because we're not," replied Harry. "What... are you doing?"

"This," I replied, dramatically pulling a shimmering piece of fabric from my book bag that Harry and Ron recognized well.

"How'd you get that?" asked Harry.

"Nicked it from your trunk," I replied, smoothing it out. He raised an eyebrow. "I've had it for a week or two now. You never mentioned it. I never saw reason to. Get under, you two!"

"Where are we going?" asked Harry as I threw the cloak over us.

"We are going," I replied, "to see our favorite half-giant."

* * *

"Who's that?"

"Hagrid, you dimwit."

"Shut up, Holly."

"Same to you, Harry."

* * *

"And now," I announced dramatically, holding up a hand under the cloak to the door to knock, "we hide!"

I tugged on Harry and Ron's sleeves as I moved to the side of the house, flattening myself against the wall beneath the window.

"What's-" I slapped a hand over Harry's mouth, a finger over my lip. I gestured toward my ear, to show that I had heard something.

I listened closer, and I could hear voices, coming from within Hagrid's hut.

"I assure you that I have complete faith in Hagrid," I could hear Dumbledore trying to reason. Who with, I couldn't identify.

"Because of his involvement with the last attacks, I am afraid that he must be sent to Azkaban," replied the other person. I had heard that voice somewhere, but where specifically I couldn't remember.

"But Minister-"

 _Minister?_

This guy was the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. I must have heard his voice somewhere... I listened closer, and jumped, as I noticed someone approaching on the path.

Platinum blonde hair, a cane with a snake head, wearing black clothing and a signature smirk.

Lucius Malfoy.

He threw open the door to Hagrid's hut, storming in, holding a piece of parchment. "Minister," he said, "myself and the other school governors have signed a petition. We wish that, in light of the recent attacks, that Dumbledore should be removed from the school."

I gasped.

"Very well," I heard Dumbledore reply. "If the school governors believe it would be best for the safety of the students, then I will leave. However, Lucius, I must inform you that-"

I wasn't listening any more. I nudged Ron and Harry before gesturing the castle, and we walked back up. I sighed, casting a glance back over my shoulder to where Malfoy, Fudge, Dumbledore and Hagrid were leaving.

"I don't believe it," muttered Harry. "Hagrid sacked, Dumbledore sacked, what good's that going to do?"

"Harry-"

"They can't get rid of him! He's not the reason the attacks are happening!"

"Harry-"

"Without him, the school will be doomed! The attacks will get even worse!"

" _Harry_!" He stopped abruptly. "Just... _shut up_."

"But-"

"Harry, we're just as outraged as you are! We get where you're coming from! But I need to think!"

* * *

 **Date : 15 March 1993**

Fear had started to seize Hogwarts, and all of its students. It swiftly entered the castle and replaced the false sense of comfort we had almost all felt. I shuddered, feeling chills go up my spine as we passed the third floor corridor, where the message in blood from months ago was faintly visible.

Ernie Macmillan and the rest of Justin's friends from Hufflepuff had apologized for suspecting me of causing the attack on Justin, knowing that Hermione and I were the best of friends, and that I wouldn't have wanted any harm to befall her.

The Mandrakes weren't quite ready yet, and while I had been anticipating their maturity for ages, I had never been more anxious for a plant to grow. There was talk of closing the school, and we were being escorted from class to class by the professors.

"What if-"

"No, Willow, stop with the crazy theories," said Ron. I sighed, sending him a pout. "I doubt Tom Riddle was the heir of Slytherin who didn't want the school to close, and all of your sentences starting with 'What if' since then have made just as much sense - which is equivalent to zero."

"Oh, shut up, Ron," I said with a sigh, adjusting my book bag at my side. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a small puddle outside of Moaning Myrtle's - ahem, the third floor girls' bathroom. I gasped.

"Alright, you two, hear me out," I said.

"Is this another crazy theory?" asked Harry with a sigh, falling back into step with us, having sped up after my third 'What If.' I shook my head.

"No," I replied. "What if-"

" _Willow_ -"

"Tom Riddle-"

"What's this going to be this time?"

"Didn't want to go back to the Muggle orphanage?" I locked eyes with Harry. "If you were doing something that could cause the school to close - only hypothetically speaking, of course, seeing as you saved it _from_ closing and are trying to again - wouldn't you want to make it seem as though someone else was doing it, and make it seem as though the threat was gone, so you wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys?"

"But why would I want to kill Muggleborns because of that?" asked Harry.

"Because, the only Muggles you'd ever met were awful, and you hated them, and therefore hated all Muggles. A bit of stereotyping, but many are subject to it," I replied. " _Now_ does my theory make any sense?"

"Maybe," replied Harry curtly, increasing his pace again.

"It's a start," I muttered optimistically.

* * *

I sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts, my head rested lazily on my desk as I listened to Lockhart boast about how the monster was gone now, and the school was no longer in danger. Neatly pressing down another fold on my eighth parchment plane, I carefully aimed as his back was turned, hitting my target as I let it fly. He was too absorbed in... well, _himself_ to really notice, and the plane joined the other seven on the ground, crumpled under his boot.

"Holly," whispered Harry harshly, poking me. I jumped, and nearly let out a yelp, having been so distracted that I had zoned out. "I have an idea."

I cast a glance at Lockhart, who was still giving his animated speech. "What?" I whispered back.

"What if-"

I threw another folded airplane at him, and he caught it, raising an eyebrow at me. I gestured as if I had a quill in my hand, and he nodded, taking the hint as he wrote on the parchment. He slid it across the desk, and I seized it, my eyes scanning over what he had written in his messy scrawl that I had come to loath for its appearance but adore for whose hand wrote it.

 _Moaning Myrtle haunts the bathroom she died in... what if she died in it fifty years ago?_

I clutched a hand to my mouth to muffle the gasp that escaped. The gears in my head started turning rapidly - it made sense. If Moaning Myrtle could tell us how she had died, it could confirm our suspicions and leave only one mystery left : who the heir of Slytherin was, and how to stop them.

Technically, two mysteries, I suppose.

Harry threw a small ball of parchment at me, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I scowled, unfolding it to read what he had written.

 _How are we supposed to ask her?_

My head snapped up as I stared at him. 'You read my mind,' I mouthed, eyes wide, and he shrugged, nonverbally replying, 'Twin thing.' I rolled my eyes, taking out my quill to reply.

 _I'm a girl, you dimwit. Watch and learn._

I slid the paper back to him, and raised my hand. Lockhart didn't notice, and I rolled my eyes, before shouting out, "Professor Lockhart!" He stopped abruptly, and the whole class turned to look at me.

"Yes, Miss Leavitt?" he asked.

"May I use the bathrooms?!" He nodded, and I sent a smirk back over my shoulder at Harry before flouncing out of the room, traipsing out into the hallway.

I was going to the bathrooms, alright, but not the nearest ones.

I grinned, setting course for the third floor.

* * *

I slipped back into the classroom, Lockhart still caught up in himself, taking my seat beside Harry. He sent me a curious look, and I grinned, holding two thumbs up. I grabbed the piece of parchment I had slid over to him before and started writing.

 _Myrtle was in the bathrooms, crying, because Olive Hornby teased her about her glasses. Sound like anyone we -_

I scratched out the last four words, wincing as I remembered just which person I would be making fun of - the same one who was lying down in the Hospital Wing, unable to move a muscle, and who had figured out the mystery before any of us.

 _And then she heard a boy's voice, and she opened the stall door to tell them to leave 'cause it was, well, a girls' bathroom, and then she saw a pair of yellow eyes and it all went dark._

I tapped the quill to my cheek, trying to think of what to write next, and Harry sent me an exasperated look, leaning across the table to seize what I had already written. I looked up at Lockhart as he read over it. The professor hadn't even noticed that we had been passing notes.

He hadn't looked at us, but it wasn't just because he was oblivious. He didn't even think we _would_ pass notes.

He was just daft.

 _The Basilisk._

Two words were on the parchment ball that Harry had tossed at me, and I looked up from it, sending him a firm nod and mouthing two words.

'Mystery solved.'

 **A/N : They're such good detectives...**


	12. Of Restorations and Rescue Missions

Diary of a Hidden Girl  
by Ash-Caro-Lynn

 _Chapter XII : Of Restorations and Rescue Missions_

 **Date : 19 June 1993**

"Three days, you two!" I said, slamming down books onto the table in the library I had taken over. I took one off the top of a stack, smacking Ron over the head with it, who was copying a passage from a book down. "No plagiarized homework! We need to study up! We need to read, we need to finish this homework, and we need to be ready! Three days left! You two need to stop fooling around! Listen up, or trip up!"

"That was a pretty passionate speech about exams," commented Harry, flipping through a book I had told him to read for revision.

"I'm channeling Hermione's spirit," I replied simply, plopping myself down on the seat next to him. "You're only on chapter eight?! I gave you that book fifteen minutes ago!"

"Hey, I'm skimming, I thought I was doing pretty well," argued Harry.

"I told you to start at chapter seven."

"You did?"

"Yes, I did."

"Oh."

He sighed, casting a glance at the pages of notes he had taken. "Well, that's a waste." I gasped, holding a hand over my heart in mock shock.

" _A waste_?!" I repeated. "Extra research is never a waste! Being extra informed is a good thing!" I looked over his notes. "You misspelled 'the.'"

"I can't help it," he replied, snapping the book shut. "We've been in here for hours."

"Well, they don't want us going outside," I replied. "What was I supposed to do? Organize a study group in the common room? Too noisy. Great Hall? We'd get food on everything."

"Alright, alright, you've made your point," said Harry, cutting me off. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, it's not my fault you took so long to absorb my brilliant reasoning," I replied. "I-"

" _Students are to return to their dormitories at once_."

"There's been another attack," I mumbled, gathering up my things. "What happened? Do either of you know?" They shook their heads. "Did they say they were going to give an explanation?" They shook their heads again. "Stop shaking your heads, you two!" Ron made to shake his head but quickly thought better of it. I sighed.

"I have a plan."

"Does it involve flying motorbikes?" asked Harry.

"Why in the world would it involve flying motorbikes?" I asked, completely taken aback at the odd question.

"You were talking about them before you went to get more books," he replied. I raised an eyebrow before pulling a silvery fabric out of my bag, shooting him a look. "Why do you _still_ have that?"

"Because it always seems to come in handy," I replied. "All packed up? Good. Get under here."

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to find out what is wrong."

* * *

"What?"

"We're going to the staff room, Ronald, honestly. You can be so dull sometimes."

* * *

"MMF!"

"Shh!"

We were sitting outside of the staff room, trying to stay quiet - well, for the most part. Harry currently had his hand slapped over my mouth, so one could say that I had slipped up a little.

Apparently, a student had gone missing, and there was a message on the wall written in blood : 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.'

"Which student is missing?" I heard one of the professors ask.

"A first year Gryffindor," replied another. I cast a glance at Ron, who turned white as a sheet at the next two words.

"Ginny Weasley."

* * *

"Alright, team, we need a game plan," I said. "Group huddle."

"What's a huddle?" asked Ron as Harry and I joined our heads together. I rolled my eyes.

"Put your head in," I replied, and he closed off the circle. "How on earth are we going to save Harry's fangirl - ahem, I mean, Ron's sister - do any of us have any idea of how to get into the chamber?"

"Pipes," replied Harry. Ron and I turned to him. "The entrance is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, it's the only logical explanation."

"And they call me the genius one," I muttered under my breath. "Lead the way, brother of mine!"

"I'm still not used to you two being twins," mumbled Ron.

"Neither are we," chimed Harry and I.

* * *

"I hate this bathroom," I commented as we entered the bathroom. "Alright, how are we doing this? It's said that only the heir can access the chamber... only the heir would be able to speak Parseltongue... Harry, say something!"

"I can't just use Parselmouth randomly!" he replied. "I have to have someone else who speaks it!"

"Uh, hello?" I said, gesturing myself. "Just... I don't know... _Shy-aw-sa_..."

"What was that?" asked Harry. I shrugged.

"Random sounds," I replied, jumping as I heard movement. I turned around, coming face to face with one of the sinks that appeared to have been opened up, revealing a huge pipe, covered with cobwebs and sticky sewage water. "Apparently, not so random..."

"It looks to be disturbed," mumbled Harry. He stuck his head in. "It's a bit like a slide," he said, his voice echoing from the walls of the pipe. "We'll have to go down."

"Shouldn't we tel a teacher or something?" asked Ron nervously.

"Ron, Gryffindor up," I replied. "It's your sister down there, after all. I'll go first."

And without hesitating, I pushed past Harry and Ron, sitting down and sliding down the pipe, my robes getting covered in the muck, but at that point I couldn't care less. "Hurry up!" I called to the other two, my voice bouncing off the metal walls of the pipe. Harry quickly joined me, landing at the ground with a quiet, "Oomph."

"There's a door," I said, starting to walk over. Harry followed, when suddenly, I heard a crash. "Ron?" I called, whipping around.

"Holly, Harry?" I heard his voice, but I couldn't see him. Fumbling around in the dark, I felt a rock, and gasped.

"The passageway's been blocked!" I cried, trying to push at the boulders.

"It's no use," replied Harry, trying to help. "They won't budge."

"It's okay, go on without me!" called Ron.

"You sure?" I called back.

"Someone's got to save my sister," he replied.

* * *

"What do you reckon these do?" I asked Harry.

We currently stood in front of a giant set of two doors, each with a snake shaped handle. I pulled on one, to no avail. I tugged harder, leaning back, and had no luck. "Damn it, open," I grumbled.

"You said that in Parseltongue," said Harry.

"Your point?" I asked, pulling on the door again. He shrugged. "Hold on a second..." I pushed the door open, and it did the rest of its own accord. "Now, I feel stupid."

"Together?" asked Harry, and we linked hands, walking into the unknown.

 **Date : 19 June 1993**

"Woah..." Harry looked around the dark room, and I did too. It was a massive chamber, mostly grey and black, and my eyes were drawn towards a patch of fiery red. I rushed across the chamber, dropping at Ginny's side.

"Ginny," I whispered, shaking her. She looked to be asleep... her face looked so peaceful... but she wasn't _moving_. Her skin was pale, almost grey, and it seemed as though her life force was slipping away. I felt a chill go up my spine as a voice spoke.

"Can't say I expected to see you here, Potter." My head snapped up, and rested on what looked to be a boy, with dark eyes and hair, but his skin wasn't quite... _real_. He seemed to be some sort of spirit. "I was expecting your brother."

I put two and two together quickly. "Tom Riddle," I spat. "Guess you'll be getting more than you expected."

Harry quickly joined me, and looked at the spirit-ghost-boy-thing, fury shining in the eyes identical to my own. "You did this," he spat.

"Indeed, I did," replied Tom, eyes dancing. "Poor Ginny... she was such an interesting girl... so ready to pour her heart out..."

"Pour... her heart out?" repeated Harry, his eyes flicking from Tom to something lying on the ground. I moved silently over to the object. "What do you mean?"

"Well," replied Tom, "she was so ready to open up to anyone who would listen, and when she found the diary that your sister is holding now, she couldn't resist the chance. It took a little while at first, but it only took a few words to get her talking..."

"Writing," I corrected. He turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "To get her writing, not talking."

"Well, writing," he replied. "Yes... she put so much of herself into that book... she practically handed herself over to me..."

"No," I gasped out.

"Yes," he replied. "After that, little Ginny was so easy to control..."

"It was you," I spat. "You possessed her to write that message, didn't you?"

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd figure that out," replied Tom. "Yes, I did..."

I looked around the chamber, trying to find something - _anything_ that could improve this situation. But all I saw were giant pillars and a statue of Salazar Slytherin - not much use in this situation. I was so caught up in searching that I didn't notice that Riddle had turned to the statue, and was now shouting something in Parseltongue : 'Help me, Slytherin, greatest of the founders four...'

"I knew it," I mumbled to Harry. "I told you, didn't I?"

"Knew what?" asked Tom, turning back to us, looking slightly amused. I shook my head, jumping as I heard a rustling sound from the wall farthest from us. I peered closer into the darkness, and could make out a dark shape... vaguely snake-like...

 _The Basilisk_.

Shit.

In a chamber beneath the school, not having alerted any teachers of our being here, with a spirit who could control a monster and no weapon to use against it.

"This is bad," I whispered under my breath, rapidly pacing and running a hand through my long hair. Riddle smirked.

"A bit stressed there, Potter? Don't worry... I'm sure my monster will kill you nice and quick... though the venom isn't the fastest to act..."

I ignored his taunting, my eyes flickering from Ginny, to the diary, to the pillars, and to the silhouette of the giant snake, which was slowly getting larger as it neared us.

Suddenly, a glimmer of hope started to shine... literally. I frowned, and tried to squint to see clearer as a bright red bird flew into the chamber, trilling cheerfully. I had seen it before, but never in all its glory, always having visited its home when it was losing its old feathers and getting new ones.

"Fawkes," I gasped out. Harry and Riddle turned to stare at me.

"It's a snake, Holly, not a fox..." said Harry.

"Not _fox_ , you fool," I replied. " _Fawkes._ "

He followed my gaze, as did Riddle. "Dumbledore's bird," said the ghost-boy-thing, sounding amused. "And what's that he's carrying? The Sorting Hat?"

And so it was, the bird had a tattered old wizard's hat with a wide rip at the brim clutched in its talons. I watched, confused, as it descended, but the Basilisk was fast approaching.

"Don't look at it," I whispered to Harry, elbowing him. "If we look in his eyes, we'll die."

"Then how the hell are we supposed to fight it?" he asked, nervously glancing around the room.

"Harry, as a girl who adores plans and believes that everything has its place, I have only one piece of advice."

"What's that?"

"Wing it."

* * *

"This is not working!" I shouted as I rapidly dashed in circles around the chamber, the Basilisk hot on my tail. "Harry, do something!"

"What am I supposed to do?!"

" _Anything_!" I jumped to the side as the snake lunged forward, narrowly missing my leg. " _The hat_!"

"What about it?!"

"Is there anything in it?!" I swerved to avoid hitting a pillar and stumbled, almost falling. "HARRY?!"

"There's - a sword!" he called.

" _What_?!" I cried, almost stopping in my tracks. I dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. "Whatever you're doing, hurry up!" I moved to the other side before picking myself up. "I don't want to die!"

"You're not going to die," he said assuringly, and I could only hope he wasn't lying as a dreadful shriek pierced the air. "I got it!"

"I figured!" I replied sarcastically, rushing away from the snake and my brother. "Careful! Don't look it in the eye!"

"I'm not looking it in the eye!" he replied, "I've almost got it!"

I covered my ears with my hands as a shrill cry filling the chamber, echoing off the walls as a crash resounded.

"Is it dead?" I asked quietly after the noise had subsided.

"Yeah," replied Harry, and I detected pain in his voice. I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees.

"Are you alright?" I asked, carefully moving away the hand he had clutched over his right shoulder. I winced, realizing that a Basilisk fang was embedded in it. "This is going to hurt a little..."

"Argh," he gasped out, and I clutched the fang in my hand, having pulled it out. Thinking quickly, I ripped a piece of fabric off my robes, carefully wiping it off. "There's no use... Basilisk venom is deadly," whispered Harry.

"No," I replied, shaking my head furiously, though my hand was about as pale as the tooth clutched in it. "I'm not going to let you die, you're my brother, Harry, it'll be alright..."

I could see him slipping away, though, as his lids slowly drooped closed. I turned around, glaring furiously at the smirking Riddle before cautiously laying Harry on the ground, the fang clutched in my hand like a weapon. "I'll kill you," I spat.

"How are you going to kill me, Potter? I'm a spirit," taunted Riddle.

"That's _it_!" I grabbed the diary off the ground, and stabbed the fang into the book. Riddle let out a piercing scream as it seemed to burn a hole through it, and I felt the adrenaline rushing from my veins as I felt fatigue take over.

"W- Holly?" I heard a faint voice ask. I gasped, turning to the source of the voice - Ginny, still pale as a sheet, had awaken, and was now sitting up, staring at me.

"Ginny," I replied. "You're - it's going to be alright." I turned my attention back to Harry. Fawkes had laid his head on my brother's shoulder, and the bird was now singing a sad song as it cried. "Phoenix tears," I gasped out. They had magical healing properties. I brushed my own from my cheeks as Fawkes moved away. "I can't lift him..."

"Holly?" I turned around, and saw Ron, who seemed to have managed to clear away some of the boulders that had fallen. "Ginny!"

Brother and sister embraced, before Ron rushed over, helping me to lift my own sibling. The four of us left the chamber, covered in muck, slime, and in Harry and I's cases, blood.

An odd quartet we made, for certain, and I was sure that McGonagall thought the same as we knocked on the door to her office minutes later.

* * *

"I'm exhausted," I mumbled, stepping out of the showers into the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, finally clean after my encounter with Riddle and the Basilisk. I shuddered just thinking about it, throwing myself down on my bed.

"What, do I not get a greeting?" I gasped, shooting up and enveloping my best friend in a hug.

"Hermione!" I squealed. "You're okay! You're back!"

"I am!" she replied joyfully. "And I heard all of what happened... you and Harry and Ron were so brave..."

I flushed red. "You figured it out first," I replied. "You're brilliant, Hermione-"

"Brilliant?" she repeated. "Brilliancy is _nothing_ compared to bravery, Willow. I may have figured out what the monster was, but I never fought a Basilisk - I can't even imagine-"

"Hermione," I interrupted, putting a finger over her lips. "I've missed you, but I swear to Merlin, you talk too much."

* * *

End-of-year exams had been cancelled, much to the joy of almost every student. Hermione, though she hadn't been prepared, was dismayed to hear of this, and though I had been stressing over them, it was still a bit of a disappointment to hear that all of my efforts had gone to waste.

Even so, the leaving feast was just as exciting as it had been the last year, if not more so. Everyone was relieved that the Basilisk had been killed, and that the Petrified students had been restored.

"Woah," I mumbled as yet another person thanked Harry, Ron and I for saving the school. "We're bigger heroes than we were back in first year."

"In first year, we saved Gryffindor from getting its arse kicked," replied Harry. "But this year, we saved the school."

"You three are so brave," started Hermione. "If-"

"Hermione, you're every bit as brave as we are." I shot the bookworm a grin. "You're smart, you're incredibly courageous, and if you had known we were going, you would have been right there in that chamber with us, just as you'd have been in first year."

"Willow-"

"Don't you dare underestimate yourself," I warned her, pointing my fork at her threateningly. "I know a guy who can pull swords out of hats and kill giant snakes with said swords."

Harry laughed. "That sounded a lot stranger than it seemed at the time."

"At the time, you were trying to be killed by a spirit that came from your best mate's younger sister's diary," I replied. "Not much is stranger than that."

"Well, I'd say the news I got last Christmas takes the cake for second place, then," joked Harry. I rolled my eyes.

"What news?" asked Hermione curiously.

"That, my dear 'Mione, is a story for another time," I replied. "For now, let's just enjoy the fact that we killed the Basilisk that Petrified you, that we saved Ginny from said Basilisk, and that we're all alive."

 **A/N : Whew! And that's the end! Thanks for reading! See ya'll in Diary of a Discovered Girl, soon!**


End file.
